


Just for one night

by Nath_happiness



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkwardness, Barista!Makoto, Bottom Tachibana Makoto, Coffee Shops, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Bar, Heartbreak, Longing, M/M, Makoto is Harusexual, One Night Stands, Possessive Nanase Haruka, Rough Sex, Sex between strangers, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Walk Into A Bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-08 21:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4321170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nath_happiness/pseuds/Nath_happiness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally, the green-eyed man has a full sight of the man’s face, and his heart dies for a second, before jumping back to life at full speed, hurting his ribcage.<br/>Makoto loses his consciousness in those sapphire eyes, which look almost inhuman in its cold-hearted gaze glory, sparkling in the middle of this strange, unrefined bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A long time after Makoto loses the sight of Kisumi’s yellow car, he still stares at the empty road, dumbfounded. He can’t believe what just happened.

Slowly and with a dried throat, the boy studies his surroundings thoroughly.

The street he finds himself in is large and the trees are illuminated with red and green Christmas lights. The sight is pretty cute, as expected of a small town. But even with the antique stores and a couple of restaurants nearby, there isn’t a single soul outside.

Which is strange, isn’t?

Behind him is the bar Kisumi told him about, and the reason for his ‘trip’. It’s with a heavy heart that he turns around and glances up at the building.

The place looks bizarre with its wood panels, large windows covered with red fabric and sparkling neon lights. The title’s typography remembers something Mexican, maybe.

Well, the name is written in a language Makoto doesn’t comprehend, it could as well be Spanish. Or Portuguese, he considers.

Also, the brunet can’t hear a single noise coming from the inside. The place seems… dead, really. All of a sudden, the boy shivers, not from the cold. His pretty face clouds with fear.

_Is it safe inside? It looks so gloomy… what if…_

Waiting here in the sidewalk will do him no good, either, since his mind is already starting to surrender to his terror of the dark. He has no idea where he is, or how to get home. Makoto trusted his friend and was left without any references, whatsoever.

Cursing Shigino Kisumi under his breath, he closes his eyes, brushing his hand over his hair to calm himself down. _Be brave_ , the young man orders himself.

The candy-haired man would never bring him somewhere dangerous. Would he?

 

 

_The modern coffee shop is empty in the middle of the afternoon, which makes possible two young baristas to share a piece of chocolate cake and a slice of lemon pie._

_“Oh god, this pie is made of rainbows” Kisumi closes his eyes and thanks to the heavens for the delicious treat._

_Makoto only chuckles at the sight. “I know, right?” he takes a sip of his hot chocolate drink, wiping the dripping liquid off his chin later. Even with the sweets and the company, he doesn’t feel alright._

_There is only emptiness inside of him._

_“Maybe you need a distraction, Makoto.”_

_Makoto startles, and glances sideways at his friend. “What do you mean?”_

_“Well, you do seem so stressed! Look at you, staring at the clock every five minutes. You didn’t even greet me when you came in today” his friend manages to get the words out of his mouth while still licking the Chantilly out of a spoon._

_Makoto’s mood is so exceptional that he doesn’t even flinch from the accusations. He just lowers his gaze and clutches his fingers into a fist. “Sorry.”_

_The fox-like eyes wouldn’t let him get off without explaining, though. “What happened?”_

_The brunet finishes his drink, thinking that maybe keeping the hurt to himself will do him no good._

_“… Olivia broke up with me this morning.”_

_Magenta eyes widen. “Oh, really? But you aren’t sad because of that.”_

_The truth in those words makes Makoto still his movements and solely focus on Kisumi._

_“You’re not. So, what is it that is bothering you?”_

_“How can you say it? I –” Makoto starts and stops again. He has no excuse to give._

_Kisumi leans on the granite counter and simply stares at him. “I have seen the way you two interact. Like siblings, not like lovers.”_

_Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, the green-eyed boy sighs. “I don’t know what is wrong with me” he admits._

_“You know what is wrong with you.” The other teases._

_“Kisumi, I don’t. I am not attracted to girls, in any sense.” He sits in the chair by the counter._

_Taking in the awkward silence of his (Makoto is almost a hundred percent sure) gay friend, he emphasizes “and I am not attracted to you! I just… don’t remember being attracted, desperately attracted, to anyone before.”_

_Kisumi walks out to where he is and puts an arm around his neck. “The problem, Makoto, is that you worry too much.” Before the brunet can complain, he continues, his other arm showing Makoto an invisible sight. “What if you let it go for one night? Just one night, to find out what do you really want? Be it a girl or a man?”_

_“One night?” it does sound cheesy  but appealing._

_“Just for one night” Kisumi smiles a white-teethed, super scary smile, something weighty dropping in the brunet’s stomach. “And I happen to know exactly where to take you.”_

 

 

The past is not going to save him from anything, so Makoto shakes his head to clear his thoughts. The ghosts may remain dead. For good or for worse, Kisumi did drive him here, to a small town just outside Tokyo, a two hours’ drive, and Makoto will enjoy every bit of the experience.

Finally, the sand brown haired man gathers his courage, opens the heavy door, and walks in.

At first, he can’t see really well because of the darkness in the narrow corridor, but as he walks the music gets louder, and once he reaches the main saloon, his emerald eyes widen in astonishment.

The once lifeless place is sparkling with joy. Well, not the kind that he is used to.

Makoto didn’t know he would be coming to a gay bar. He also didn’t expect his friend to leave after dropping him in the unknown place.

The barn is actually very large, full of wooden tables, and a place where people can dance. There is no ceiling, and the string lights mix with the starry night.

There are people smoking all kind of herbs, licit and illegal ones.

The colorful lights flash through the dancing crowd, highlighting their faces and obscene movements. There are people sitting on tables, drinking cheap beer and talking loudly, others are playing pool or cards, others are making out at the far walls, hidden from the blazing decorations.

Makoto licks his lips unconsciously. For the hundredth time at that night, he feels insecure.

He simply doesn’t know where to start. And all those boys look so… well, straight.

Not that he would know what a gay guy would look like. Makoto himself had a girlfriend until that same morning, for god’s sake.

A short-haired guy hits him when walking inside the saloon, glancing over his shoulders at Makoto before joining four older men at the table closer to the entrance.

The brunette takes a few short steps, just to get out of the way, and stops to decide his next movement.

He can feel craving gazes falling all over him already and lowers his head, heart beating fast with the pace of the electronic music. During all his life, Makoto has had control, trying to be a good son, a respectable student, a reliable friend, a loyal boyfriend.

He has always walked on the right path.

But here, in the middle of nowhere, in a place where he doesn’t recognize anyone, he can’t help but feel a bit scared. But Makoto needs to do this, or else he will go crazy.

The sweet boy needs to find out his true desires, acknowledge them. The only way to achieve that is to step out of his comfort zone.

Emerald eyes flicker open one more time, looking for a place to sit. He reaches the counter, ordering a beer. The barista gives him a knowing smile and hands him the drink he desires. After that, Makoto sits at a table on the surrounds.

The beer is actually pretty good, and he drinks eagerly. Not that Makoto understands about alcohol, at all. But it is cold, and sweet. He wipes the foam out of his lips and smiles a little, enjoying the view for the first time.

His eyes spot a few handsome men. He can do this, right? Go out and sleep with a man, just to know how it feels? Is it the right thing to do, with all the doubts spiraling around his head?

_No, it is not. But there is no backing out now._

His gaze locks with brownish eyes. The gaze turns so deep with lust that Makoto looks to the side in a hurry. He isn’t used to those looks. _Oh God_ , he chuckles. He has to be the stupidest guy on Earth.

Even flirting comes with failure when it comes to him. How in the world did he get a girlfriend? Well, ex-girlfriend now.

_The brunette wakes up to the sound of a cheesy, annoying ringtone._

_It is the one Olivia chose for herself, during one of their few dates. He reaches his sleepy hand to the side, trying to grab the electronic device._

_“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU – ” is the first thing he hears before dropping the cell phone in surprise. He puts it close to his ears again._

_“IT’S OUR SECOND MONTH ANNIVERSARY, AND HERE I AM, WAITING FOR YOU…_

_While his girlfriend complains, Makoto has the feeling he forgot something very, very important._

_Not Olivia related, though._

_Oh. Right. It is Saturday. There are morning classes today. He checks the hour in the clock on the bedside table. 8:32 am._

_The brown sugar haired boy has one hour to get to the University. He can make it if he runs._

_“Olivia, sorry, but I can’t talk right now” he starts, already foreseeing the rain of vulgarities the girl is going to say. She is so predictable._

_“You are the worst boyfriend ever, Makoto! We were supposed to have breakfast together! You don’t even live that far from me!_

_Makoto knows. He knows this._

_But he is… exhausted, and he decides his next action, impulsively. The young man covers his eyes with his calloused hands and exhales loudly. He hates himself for doing this over the phone, but he just can’t take it anymore._

_“I know, and I am so sorry. You deserve better. That’s why –”_

_“Are you breaking up with me?”_

_“…”  
Makoto looks at the yellowish wall of his bedroom. There is a black and white poster with the saying “There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind, by C. S. Lewis.” He bought it on a yard sale two years ago._

_The words have never made more sense than at this exact moment._

_It isn’t about the fact that he had canceled their plans the night before to do homework instead._

_It isn’t because they had not seen each other for several days._

_It isn’t because he doesn’t feel attracted to her like he was supposed to be._

_It isn’t because he didn’t enjoy the sex – too much sweat, too much pain, too many empty feelings._

_The reason for his next words is that he can’t stand the damn ringtone any longer._

_“Yes, I am. Sorry, Sophie, I…” the statics is the only answer he receives before starting with his flimsy excuses._

He should feel bad, right? He should feel very, very devastated. At least that is what common sense states.

Granted, the sky’s navy color is outstanding, and there are so many stars that are impossible to count like he does in his hometown. The autumn breeze falls around him like it is congratulating his new freedom and his lungs inhale the fresh air for the first time in a long time.

Makoto sips at his beer one more time, glancing at his surrounds, hands moving to pat his hair to the sides, self-consciously. He is glad for not regretting his choice of clothes, a dark green shirt with long sleeves, slightly folded to show his forearms. The piece of clothing was loose at the collarbone, making it easy to spot the tanned skin underneath.

But even though he is a very attractive man, Makoto himself is not aware of this fact and still feels insecure in places he doesn’t know well, as if his strong body had grown faster than his sweet mind. It is a matter of time until his hand move to touch the discreet metallic earring in his right ear, an old habit for uncomfortable moments, gaze lost in the yellow moisture of the beer.

Sometime during his teenage years, Makoto went through a short phase of rebellion, and the cheap jewelry is the only trace left about the state of his heart at that moment.

Well, perhaps that phase was never really gone, or else he wouldn’t be sitting at a gay bar, drinking alcohol all alone, in the middle of nowhere.

He wouldn’t be feeling this lost. The young man almost wishes he had felt attraction to guys before, so he would know for sure that _this_ is what he wanted. All Makoto is sure about is that sex with girls is boring as hell and that the carnal touches he shared in the past haven’t aroused him, really aroused him, in the least.

Eventually, the slow, soft music changes to a more physical and energetic one, the upbeat drumming in his ears, surprising the boy and stirring jade eyes to look up.

The commotion of people gathering around the long counter is a new thing, exciting Makoto’s curiosity. Actually, the whole bar is filled with a new, electrifying aura that wasn’t there a few moments ago.

_What is going on?_

The music continues with its ups and downs, and Makoto observes a few guys climb on the counter with master expertise. They deliberately start moving their bodies to the rhythm of the song, each one dancing on their own accord.

From his spot, Makoto can’t see really well, but he still has some access to the view. He gazes each of them individually, thinking that they are all such beautiful man. However, it is only when his emerald eyes drop on a short boy with dark-pitched hair that his heart leaps in an awkward way in his chest.

Between all of them, the boy stands out with his loose black shirt, leather pants, silver necklaces and milk colored skin. The tight pants leave little to the imagination, where Makoto can make out the solid, defined muscles hidden below.

Without thinking, Makoto rises to his feet slowly, still holding his glass of the cold drink, and starts pacing towards the crowd.

He makes his way steadily through the heavy beat and the people that try to dance, only managing to shake uncontrollably near him instead, while the only thing Makoto cares about is to stare at the boy in the counter.

The brunet doesn’t hear the vulgar callings for his attentions, nor does he notice the light hands freely touching his body.

From up close, he can see the sweat staining the man’s blouse, and his hair is dripping wet. His smooth movements are so sensual that Makoto is sure he hasn’t ever seen a sight this erotic before. It is like there is no gravity, no air, to keep the man from motioning like he floats above him.

But that is not the reason he keeps staring at the boy. It’s because his thin lips are moving with the lyrics of the electronic song, like he is singing to himself, lost in the moment of freedom and excitement.

It makes Makoto want to get out of his own responsible head, in the same way.

Just when the brunet considers joining the crowd with the dancing, the stranger turns his head up and locks eyes with Makoto.

Finally, the green-eyed man has a full sight of the man’s face, and his heart dies for a second, before jumping back to life at full speed, hurting his ribcage.

Makoto loses his consciousness in those sapphire eyes, which look almost inhuman in its cold-hearted gaze glory, sparkling in the middle of this strange, unrefined bar.

For a moment, his mind is blank, his face is red flushed and his breath hitches once the man swings down, hips almost touching the wood board and going slowly up again, eyes fixed in Makoto the whole time.

Makoto licks his dry lips and the boy continues to provoke Makoto with his sensual dance and the enigmatic expressions that cover his pretty face. Hands slide through the slender figure and the boy shakes the raven hair out of his face, flawless with a magnificent lack of effort.

In the meantime, Makoto realizes that he desires someone for the very first time in his life. And his male body aches for one of the same sex. Suddenly his pants feel way tighter than before.

Despite that, the sand-haired boy smiles wide and sighs with immense relieve, which is not lost to the blue-eyed man on the counter. Makoto knows that for the way his dance wobbled slightly and his brows furrowed a little, before he caught himself and continued moving like nothing happened.

The brunet is not the only one enchanted by the short man, as the cheers of the crowd are clue enough. But at that time, with eyes locked and shared entranced expressions, Makoto feels that the show is only for him.

That is, until someone grabs Makoto by the neck, lacing arms around his shoulders and pushing him away from the dancers. His spectacular view changes to a fast-paced, unfocused mix of human parts as they stride through the mass. “Don’t waste your time with those guys, pretty boy” Makoto smells the alcohol in the strange man, as the stranger leans close to his mouth, and he feels himself dizzy with nausea. The guy has white hair already, and he has a ruthless shaved beard. “I can provide you with a better show myself. Wanna see it?”

Being stronger than the old, drunk man, the sand sugar haired boy manages to stop and detaches himself from him. “I think I will pass, sorry” he starts, and the guy moves to grab him again, dripping more of Makoto’s beer in the stony ground.

This time, he is stopped by shorter but faster hands. “What the hell is your problem? He said no. You know the rules.” Cold blue eyes pierce the man under its glare. It is enough for the man to back away, mumbling something Makoto can’t hear and going back to watch the dancers up the counter.

Makoto follows the drunken man with his eyes and realizes that the show still continues, except for the handsome man that stands in front of him.

Once his savior turns around and stares at his face, Makoto freezes, afraid that the man is going to be mean to him too. “You are bigger than him” is all the stranger says, and his voice sounds melodic to Makoto’s ears. Makoto doesn’t miss the sarcasm though.

The brunet blushes again but keeps his gaze. He isn’t a child. “I know, I would have taken care of that, but… thank you, anyway” he offers a shy smile, trying to force his wild heart to behave, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

He feels as if he is being scrutinized under the solid stare, a slow and agonizing death. He had wanted to meet the man, but not like this, as some damsel in distress. It is so unlike him.

“Where are you sitting?” the smooth voice asks, a little softer this time.

Green eyes wave through the saloon, and he gestures towards a small table. “Over there.” The gorgeous man nods and turns around. “I will meet you in a second.” Then he disappears between the bodies on the dancing floor.

Having no other choice, Makoto heads to his table and sits obediently. What would they talk about? The enchantment was certainly gone, right?

But once the man is back, hair plastered in his forehead with all the sweat, and sits across from him, eyes locking with his again, Makoto knows the magic haven’t left at all. The guy still makes everything else seems unimportant, fading in the background.

He deposits another beer in front of Makoto. “You dropped your drink before, so…” he adds, turning his head to the side.

“Thank you” Makoto drinks from the bottle eagerly. “You were pretty good up there, I could never move like you did” he complements, leaning a bit towards the other boy.

“Maybe you just lack the practice” those goddamn eyes are back, full attention at the brunet.

“Maybe” Makoto shrugs, sipping his drink again. Only now he thinks that, if the stranger had drugged the beer, he would be feeling the effects soon after.

The thought actually panics him, and it shows in his emerald eyes.

“It is not drugged.”

“Eh?” Makoto startles.

“I didn’t drug you, this is only beer. It just tastes bad.” The man props and takes the glass from Makoto’s grip, drinking from it too, in order to prove his innocence. It is reassuring and sexy as hell.

Makoto’s hands move on its own accord and calloused fingers wipe the foam out of the blue-eyed man lips. “There” Makoto offers, and they exchange glances again.

The man grabs Makoto’s hands, and slowly, deliberately starts to lick the foam out of his fingers, watching the reaction with entertained eyes.

 _What kind of man does something like this?_ Makoto thinks while biting his lips. Seriously, he could never be so… he doesn’t even have the word for it.

The behavior is out of his dictionary of manners. Is it because he is a prude?

He can see the moment the realization draws in the stranger’s eyes, in the smirk that appears in the other’s lips. The man had read his mind, and he seemed to enjoy it. _Shit._

Out of a sudden, the man stands up. “Come with me”. Then he turns around for the second time that day, leaving the choice to follow him entirely up to Makoto.

Makoto considers his options while he starts to lose the man’s sight. Immediately, his mind evokes one of his favorite all-time quotes, that states “everything you want is on the other side of fear, by Jack Canfield” and, before he realizes, Makoto is rising and walking after the guy.

He isn’t sure about anything. The only thing he knows is that the chance of finding someone like that man again was zero, none. So he isn’t ready to let this unplanned meeting go to a waste.

And for some reason he can’t quite figure it out, the man makes him nervous and lit every nerve of his body with just his stare. That counts for something, right?

By the time he is out of the bar, the stranger leans against a blue car, smoking a cigarette. Makoto approaches him and the man eyes him from head to toes before tossing the cigarette on the floor and entering the car. The brunet hesitates a little before giving in.

Right after he enters the vehicle, wet lips find his and he is trapped in the stranger’s mouth before even setting down properly. The man rests against him, hands on his chest and Makoto reciprocates the kiss, slowing it down so can actually _feel_ it.

 _This way is better_ , he thinks, grabbing the other’s hair and moving his lips in sync with the man. It is soft, and so, so very manly. Even after smoking, the guy smells nice.

Not bad for his first kiss with a man.

Then, when the kiss suddenly ends, Makoto realizes the boy had been _indulging_ him, going on the pace he wanted to go. He can see it in the man’s eyes, and is not sure what to make out of that information.

Right, they haven’t even exchanged names. “Ah… I am Makoto.”

The strangers reply is to start the engine and put the car to life at full speed.

He is going so fast that Makoto gets water in his eyes and the only thing he sees is the mixed palette of the scenario.

“Slow down! Why do you have to go so fast?” he demands, heart aching harshly.

Saphire eyes side-glances at him, a mask of control. “Would you rather doing it here?”

_Doing it…here?_

Makoto goes scarlet red at the thought, and he turns his face towards the window.

In the end, it is all about sex, isn’t it? That is the reason why the stranger didn’t mention his name. _It is just useless information anyway_ , Makoto concludes, but the sharp pang at his chest disagrees. Does he even want the sex just for the sake of it?

To be nothing more than a one night stand?

He inclines his head on the glass and sighs. _Maybe_ … _it can’t be that bad, just for once._

‘Just for one night’, Kisumi had said. Sounds like cheap poetry to his ears.

They drive in silence for several minutes, in that hurry that Makoto wishes to forget about. After his eyes adjusted to the speed, he notices that the scenario is mostly based in farms and fragments of a small, beautiful town. Makoto would like to walk around during the morning, and take pictures. That would be nice.

When he is losing his attention to the view, a feather-light touch rests on his tight. He glances down and finds the man’s hand on him, but the gaze is on the road. It is cute, so he smiles and slides his fingers between the others. It feels pleasant, and he turns his head away again, more contented this time.

Finally, the car stops in the front of a small house painted with blue and pastel colors. There is a garden in the front and an elementary school across the street.

Makoto notices a bus station close by.

They disentangle themselves and get out of the vehicle, Makoto following the guy’s lead. The man pushes the door open and enters the house. The brunet isn’t a fan of the dark, but he goes after him anyway. He is more scared of deserted streets.

He puts one foot inside, then the other. Once he is inside, the stranger closes the door and pushes Makoto at the entrance wall. Thankfully, the corridor isn’t really dark since the street’s light is coming through the windows.

Makoto’s back hits the wall with a loud noise, and soon after lips come crashing down on him.

He allows his lips to be devoured by the other eagerness. He quite enjoys it by now, choosing to reciprocate the kiss, shyly at first, tasting the flavor of water and something else he can’t recognize. Maybe it is mint toothpaste.

The raven man pins him with his own body to the wall, grabbing brown sugared locks of hair with firm fingers and holding the locks tightly in his hands, possessively.

His mouth moves with Makoto’s, and this time the brunet has no control over the kiss. He is taken, pinned, and his lips are already flushed from the abuse. The man traps his lower lips between his teeth and bites it lightly, winning a soft moan from Makoto, whose hands travel over the other’s slender back.

The firm muscles twist under his fingertips, and the sense, joined with all the other stimulation, arouses him.

There is something very erotic about being in someone else’s control.

Makoto can also feel the growing heat in the other’s pants brushing his tight.

_Is he used to do this, to pick strangers at bars and take them to his bed?_

The brunet isn’t sure why, but the thought annoys him a bit, that those lips would be claiming another’s so very soon.

Makoto stops thinking when the man kisses and sucks hard at his collarbones.

Shirts and boots come off and stumbling pair of foot make their way towards the bedroom, upstairs.

Once he is pushed roughly on the bed, Makoto starts, and looks up just to find the man hovering over him. He realizes that the sense of power enlightens the guy, and the boy shivers at the assumption, still resting his head on the pillows though.

Those cold eyes do enjoy staring down at him.

Slowly, the blue-eyed man descends and crawls over him until their faces are aligned and their noses bump. They share the same air, and it is oddly relaxing.

For a moment, they just linger there, brushing their faces against each other, cheek to cheek, breathing the other’s male scent. Makoto isn’t out of his mind, but he feels something he has never felt before. His heart and body are entirely enthralled by the man.

After some time, the raven-haired boy moves to Makoto’s neck, and he nuzzles the spot and places rough kisses on his already sweaty skin. The sand-haired man cards his fingers through the other’s dark hair, guiding his movements down his shoulders.

He can feel the teeth grazing his skin, sucking and biting, leaving trails o split on the way down.

Then their lips met again, and it is hot and passionate while the man places his legs between Makoto’s tights. “Ahhh!” the taller man moans from pleasure while his groin keeps being stimulated by the friction.

Sapphire eyes flicker to his face once before dropping again, focused on the tanned skin of his chest. The man kisses below his ribs and touches his nipples with his right hand.

“Ahhh…mnn… wait… slower…” Makoto finds himself pleading, but the stranger just picks his pace up, fingers working his pants with mastery.

 “Wait…mn…ahhh…what…”

The blue-eyed man stands a little and kisses his lips, adding between the kisses “shut up”.

His pants slide down, and Makoto gets a bit shy for his nakedness.  Even though he is big and muscular, he doesn’t like it very much. His companion disagrees though, for his hands travel all over his body, acknowledging, memorizing.

The fingers give Makoto’s skin goosebumps, and he shivers from the cold between the touches. The other’s hand are on his tights, squeezing hard then caressing then rubbing his nails through the soft male hair, all the while kissing his shoulders and chest.

Makoto’s breath becomes shallow and he starts panting, his groin throbbing from being neglected for so long. His fingers reach down to unbutton his partners pants, but the man just knees on the bed and takes his pants off himself, smirking at Makoto’s surprised expression.

His companion is hard, so hard. The brunet tries to touch his intimate parts, but the man is faster, pinning him back to the bed.

“Do you want it?” he asks, before claiming Makoto’s mouth again. This time, he forces his tongue in and Makoto happily obliges, their wet tongues sliding against each other, needy, desperate for warmth.

He guides Makoto’s other hand to his crotch, and the brunet slowly feels the boy’s hot skin. He wraps his fingers around it, and it’s still a bit dry, so he strokes the man with all the careful in the world.

It feels weird holding another’s dick, but not unpleasant, and he seeks the man’s mouth, its warmth, its safety. Almost instantly, his own groin is held and he resumes gasping again, the result of the stroking and pulling his sexual muscles.

The other man is very quiet, he notices. While Makoto emits soft, sweet sounds in the air, the man keeps silent moving his hands in sync with Makoto’s own movements. He rests his head on the brunet’s shoulders, and Makoto can feel the lips wetting his skin.

“Ahhh…Aaahhh…Ah!” he cries, picking the pace up and stroking faster, harder. “Please… mn… more… I… ah… need… ah… more…” he begs to no one in particular.

It feels hot, and he can’t breathe really well, but Makoto isn’t surprised when his partner moves and places his legs around his own, climbing on top of him again. It is only when their feverish skin move against each other that Makoto closes his eyes and blanks out for a moment because it feels _so damn good_.

The man holds himself up with both his arms around Makoto’s head, and the brunet places his hands on his muscular chest, and looks up, just to find those beautiful eyes, dark with a barely contained lust, staring down at him.

Their foreheads touch, Makoto’s hands moving to the man’s hips, and his companion starts a harsh pace on him.

The sensation is so much more than what he is used to. It scares the shit out of him. His jade eyes widen and close and widen again while he tries desperately to keep his focus.

It is so fast and rough that Makoto can’t follow really well, so he grabs the other tightly, in an attempt of anchoring himself down. His head is spinning and all he can think about is the other’s hard dick sliding against his own.

He moves one hand over the other’s neck, and tries to inhale, tries to keep his awareness, but the sweat in the man’s hair is dripping on his face, and he is so aroused already, he can’t hold it any longer.

“I… can’t… mn…ahhhh… mn… I…ah” he attempts to say while searching for the man’s eyes and failing.

“Yeah,” the cold-hearted eyes speak to him “me neither”.

And with a last kiss, they both reach their climax, minds blanking, panting in each other’s mouth and holding on to each other’s warmth and comfort.

His partner doesn’t stop to regain his breath though, he greedily seeks for Makoto’s mouth again and kisses him desperately, chests slippery with cum and tongues playing against each other. The man grabs the brunet’s face with both hands and holds him still, and Makoto’s nails scratch the other’s flesh, from the shoulders to the edge of his ass, in reflex.

The hissing sound that leaves the man’s parted lips is the first sexual one that Makoto has heard the entire evening, and it makes his body go crazy so he responds the kiss with more force than he intended.

But everything that he gives the other hungrily accepts, hands sliding down Makoto’s sides and making him tremble with pleasure.

It is only when he feels the finger bordering on the edge of his rim that he finally stills. In fact, his whole body goes numb.

The man senses the change and pushes himself up, leaning on his elbow. He kisses Makoto’s jaw, and bites his chin playfully, then moves to his neck, and it’s only when he feels the man underneath him relaxing again that he pushes one finger in.

He shoves just the tip of his finger in, but the spot is so tight that it rejects the finger immediately, and it is enough for Makoto’s body to start to shake, so he rests his arms around the other’s neck again.

“Shhhh” the smooth voice whispers in his ears. “I need you to relax.”

When he decided about going to the bar, Makoto didn’t think he would be losing his virginity like that.

_And why in the world did he get chosen as the one to bottom?_

But… he wanted it. He wants this stranger to prove him that he can feel pleasure too. That he can feel good, really good. To fuck him until he can’t even stand.

So he squeezes his eyes shut. “Okay.”

“Relax, Makoto.”

Shimmering emerald eyes flicker open in surprise, and find themselves locked with sapphire blue ones. _He remembered my name…_

Makoto nods and gives the man a trembling smile “yeah.”

The finger is buried a little more inside of him as a response, and Makoto’s eyes get watery on the edges, but he just nods, just tries to inhale and exhale, watching the details in the pretty face in front of him. He can see that the man has a small mark on his upper lip, and a bit of light, barely there freckles on his nose. He notes that are sparkles of blue in the dark locks of hair.

Since it’s his first time, it takes a lot of preparation for Makoto to be moaning in the man’s face, panting heavily with every thrust of the man’s fingers inside him. But now every touch sends him over the edge, and he can’t contain his voice anymore, unconsciously shaking his hips on the man’s fingers.

He hides his face in the join of the other’s neck and shoulders, breathing through his open mouth. Later, he licks the spot, sliding his tongue over and over like a cat, and kisses the soft skin. The heat building up in his lower belly is driving Makoto crazy, and the boy doesn’t think he can last much longer.

“Ah… fuck… not… there… ah… there!... yeah…mn… yeah...” The words are leaving his lips unconsciously and their fingers curling on the man’s silver necklace, bringing his body closer to his own.

Suddenly, he feels himself being turned over on the bed so he lies on his stomach. “Whaaaat?....”

The smell of lubricant reaches his nostrils and he glances backward to his partner. “Hey…”

The sight of the raven boy applying the moisture on his hard cock goes straight to Makoto’s throbbing dick. But once Makoto takes in the size of the other’s crotch, he starts having second thoughts. “Ah…”

Dark blue eyes silence him without a word. “You can take it. I took care of it” the heartless man says, adjusting himself behind him.

“Okay, but…” Makoto decides he will endure it because he wants to have sex, after all. “But why do I have to be on my stomach?” he feels like a child asking for candy and being denied.

The other’s gaze softens a little. “Because I enjoy the view” he selfishly explains, deliberating tracing the edges of Makoto’s back muscles and ass with a cold finger. The brunet flushes, and glances back to the sheets. “Sure...”

Makoto feels strong fingers grab his hips and he imagines his companion aligning himself, that steady, cold gaze looking down on him. Instead of freaking him out, the fictional scene calms his anxiety for a bit.

The boy doesn’t expect, however, that the controlled man is going to enter him all at once, without giving him time to adjust, knocking the breath out of him, hard.

“Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” Makoto cries out loud, pressing his eyes shut, his body tensing and shaking uncontrollably. His arms give up and he hides his face in his folded arms, sobbing.

“Shhhhh, you are okay” feather light kisses are being displayed across his neck and shoulders “it would hurt more if I delayed it” the other murmurs against his skin.

 _Are you fucking kidding me???_ Makoto isn’t fond of cursing, but at this exact moment all he can think about is shouting vulgarities to his heart’s content.

But Makoto is glad that the man doesn’t move, he doesn’t even try it. All the man does is caressing Makoto’s arms, brushing his knuckles over his back, sometimes playing with the sand hair.

The man’s lips start sucking in Makoto’s sweaty neck, until he feels the brunet’s arousing awakening, until the boy moans quietly under him, until Makoto begins to push softly against his cock, by his own accord, at his own pace.

“Better?”

“Better.”

“I will move now.”

When there is no answer, the man pulls his crotch almost all the way out, and then buries himself all the way in, his pelvis in contact with Makoto’s pale ass, enjoying the trembling in Makoto’s body and the hitch in his breath.

The man goes slowly at first, then faster and deeper, hotness and wildness mixed together. He can’t control himself, not with that shaken mess under him, not with that tight hole sucking him and squeezing his tough cock.

“Ahhh… ah… slo…slower…” Makoto supplicates because he can’t keep up with the fast speed. It feels too much.

The stranger keeps his pace and inclines himself to speak in the Makoto’s ears. “Can’t” he coldly denies, nibbling the earlobes and mouthing the boy’s metallic earring, playing it with his tongue.

The brunet feels a mix of pain and excitement at the harsh words, but overall he doesn’t want the man to stop. Even if it is fast, even if it hurts, he doesn’t want this sweet friction to stop, especially once the man bites his shoulders ruthlessly matching a powerful thrust.

His partner grabs locks of chocolate hair in his hands and roughly turns Makoto’s flushed face towards him. “Look at me” the man orders.

There are tears pricking the corners of his jade eyes, the bangs are plastered across his forehead, his skin is shining with sweat, and Makoto is sure he isn’t the most arousing sight right now, but he concedes. It doesn’t matter what the guy asks, he will always agree.

The view his eyes find isn’t very different, as the man is disheveled himself, but handsome, so very handsome, with a natural elegance even at a time like this. A small part of Makoto envies the man’s composure. It seems that Makoto is always sweating, wearing crumpled clothes, or styled with a messy hair, and no matter how hard he tries to display a good appearance, the universe never helps him out.

The cobalt blue eyes blaze in the dark, stirring the lust inside Makoto. Then the boy remembers the erotic way the man was dancing earlier at the bar, so freely, so sensual, and Makoto realizes he wouldn’t change his partner for the world. So far, this is the best night he has ever had.

Callous lips engulf his own, and they kiss a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue and split and biting, and then there are only wet lips barely touching, minds too focused on the friction bellow to care.

The man keeps his brutal thrusts, impaling Makoto to the core.

“More… there… yes!... mn… aah… yes…” the brunet pleading and the silent man granting,  his thick cock finally reaching that sweet, honeyed spot.

Thankfully, Makoto can feel the man’s shallow pants on his back since the other’s head leans against his shoulders, the other’s hair and necklace tickling on his naked skin. He is pleased that he isn’t the only one feeling this good, because it feels good, so much more than just good, actually.

Makoto never wants this overwhelming sensation to end.

However, once the man grabs his neglected cock and strokes it in the same rhythm that his powerful thrusts, it gets very hard not to beg for release. The member is throbbing and leaking pre-cum.

“I… ahhh… ahhh… need… to… mnnn… ohhh…” Makoto tries and fails, nearly sobbing from the building heat.

His partner listens to his plea, nevertheless. With his forehead still resting on the soft skin between his shoulder blades, the man just softly kisses his back, lingering his mouth in the wet spot. The unusual gentleness in the gesture starts Makoto at first, but a tiny smile appears on his face when he understands this new side of his partner.

“Okay.” The man rumbles, doubling his efforts and sucking at Makoto’s neck, and in no time Makoto is coming, vision going white and mind shutting down from the force of his release.

It doesn’t occur to him that he came all over the man’s hand.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he can feel his companion’s frenzied pushes in his ass, riding him during his orgasm, then the body trembling on top of him, digging nails into his flesh, and one last, deep thrust, before his legs give out and Makoto nods off completely.

The next time Makoto awakens, he finds himself lying on his back and there are soft hands cleaning his belly with cold tissues. He lazily opens his eyes a bit. “Hey”.

“Hey,” the man quietly replies.

“Thank you for...”

“It’s fine.” The raven-haired boy brings his head to the base of Makoto’s crotch and starts licking the soft member clean, hands placed on Makoto’s lower abdomen and chest. The brunet’s fingers seek the other’s silk hair, rubbing it half-consciously, and barely there whimpers leave his trembling lips. If he weren’t so tired he would be turned on again from the sensation.

Once all the white fluid is gone, the man licks the head of his cock one last time and hovers over him, catching him in an open-mouthed kiss. Makoto can taste his own salted flavor in the other’s tongue, and the flavor has its appealing while they savor each other with slightly opened eyes.

Sapphire blue eyes remain locked with emerald ones when they part – faces still too close. “Can you stand up? I need to change the sheets.” The tone of voice is rude and raw, but Makoto is able to distinguish the meaning of those words, anyway.

The real question is ‘ _are you able to stand up on your own?’_

So the green-eyed boy nods and a small smile graces his face, then he proceeds to rise not without some difficulty. Thankfully the other man works fast on the task, eyeing Makoto as if telling him to hurry up and sooner than later the brunet is back on the bed, resting happily under the comforter.

It is rather chilly inside the bedroom for his like.

The stranger climbs on the bed besides him, and stares at Makoto for a long while before speaking his mind. Makoto is almost dozing off again when the smooth voice reaches his ears.

“Was it… your first time?”

The question surprises the taller boy and his emerald eyes go wide in astonishment.

_Oh God, was he really that bad during sex? This is how the man knows it, right?_

“Ahhh… yeah… it… was… with a man” he reveals, heart swimming in anxiety inside him, so he averts his gaze from the coldness in the other’s eyes. “How did you know?”

The man doesn’t miss a beat. “You’re too tight.”

“Eh?” Makoto considers this and realizes that his companion is right. It took the man a long time to prepare him, after all.

“Also, there was a little bit of blood…”

“EH???” Makoto panics and reaches his hands down to touch his ass, but the stranger stops him.

“I already cleaned you there, so it is okay now. Besides, it is normal” he shrugs “I bled a bit too on my first time.”

They exchange a meaningful glance and the brunet’s nerves finally settle down, while he tries not to think about the man’s first time… having sex… with someone other than him.

“Then why did I end up as the bottom one?” the brunet murmurs, adjusting himself more comfortably on the sheets. The boy is so exhausted he doesn’t realize the words were spoken out loud, but his companion only watches him more intensely with a serious gaze.

“You should go to sleep” the unfamiliar person whispers, leaning to kiss a wet, lingering kiss on Makoto’s forehead. The man turns around and rests on his sides, back displayed for Makoto. “Goodnight.”

The brunet briefly considers cuddling with the man, but his eyelids are so heavy, his lashes closing on their own already. He chooses to surrender to the drowsiness and fatigue.

“Goodnight.”

 

 

Hours later, Makoto opens his eyes, still dazed from the sleep. His body is shivering, and he realizes the bedroom is abnormally cold. He moves to put the comforter around his quivering form, resting on his sides. It is only then that he notices the faint musk scent on the sheets and the discomfort scratching his hips. Not mentioning that the bed is too big to be the one he owns at home.

The brunet slowly moves to a sitting position, ignoring the sharp pain on his lower back, and observes the place around him with wide eyes and sand hair sticking wildly at different directions. The bedroom he finds himself in is neat and clean, except for his discarded clothes on the floor. The walls are white and there is a large window on the other side of the room. There are a few pieces of furniture, made from dark mahogany, a frame with the picture of dolphins on the wall and a vase with plastic flowers on the bedside table, but overall the room is empty.

That’s when the events from yesterday come back to his mind. Last night, he had been so focused on the other man that he didn’t pay attention to his surroundings.

Speaking of which… where is the guy? Where did he go?

Makoto touches the other side of the bed. Freezing.He frowns, an uncomfortable feeling blooming in his chest.

The boy crawls over the bed and forces himself to stand up with shaken legs, the hair standing out when faced with the cold environment, and gathers the clothes from the floor and puts the now creased shirt on. The pants are harder to fit in though since he struggles to lower his body and push the fabric over his weak tights. After a while, fully clothed, Makoto makes the bed and approaches the window. Across the glass, the streets are still deprived of human souls, but the place doesn’t scare him anymore. Under the morning sun, the trees are beautiful with its yellow and orange leaves falling on the ground.

It is only now that he notices the noises of water rushing, so he takes a few steps and quietly opens the bedroom door, following the noise.

He stops in the front of a simple red door. _It must be the bathroom,_ he thinks and stands there for a while. Makoto isn’t sure what the etiquette for a one night stand really states.

Is he supposed to stay so they can have breakfast together?

Is he supposed to go back to the large bed?

Is the man going to claim his lips with the same hunger again?

Makoto wants that, but he is also curious, so he settles for exploring the house. He goes downstairs and finds a small kitchen with a counter, another bathroom and the living room with an old television and a DVD player. The whole house has the same impersonal design, like a vacation house. It certainly doesn’t look like a home. The brunet decides to sit on the stool and wait for the other man to finish his bath, happily.

But after some time, the anxiety starts to kick in, and he nervously plays with his earring.

_Why is he taking so long?_

He must know that Makoto is still here, right?

He must know…

Finally, _finally_ , the realization that the man can actually be avoiding him, waiting for him to leave, drowns bitterly in his stomach. The fact that his partner chose not to share his name on the previous night hits Makoto hard. The thing is, the blue-eyed boy couldn’t care less.

He is probably used to sleeping with strangers he meets at the bar.

And worse, it was Makoto’s first time with a man. A tiny part of his brain is glad they cared about precautions.

 _What was I hoping for?_ is the question his mind is more focused at.

Elbows on the counter, Makoto hides his troubled face in his hands and silent grunts. Frustration and pain take a hold of him, but he doesn’t blame the handsome stranger for his hurt. The only one to blame is himself, for his ignorance and high expectations.

In the end, he only wishes he had a chance to kiss the man goodbye.

Standing up, Makoto takes out a post it from the open package on the table and writes down a quick note, before heading to the unlocked door and facing the chilly air outside.

 

 

At the sound of the front door opening and closing, Haruka brings his head to the surface of the water and sighs in relief. He’s been in the bathtub for so long that his skin started to create prickles, so he shakes the hair out of his face and stands up.

Picking a towel up and drying himself, Haruka walks to the bedroom, leaving wet footsteps on his way out. However, whatever thought his mind is conjuring dies at the sight of folded sheets and a clean bed. For the first time, a light sense of regret falls over the man.

Isn’t this what he wanted, what he has been looking for?

Isn’t this what he goes out of his way to keep?

_‘Have wild pleasure at night, avoid complications in the morning’._

The rule is that simple, it has always been.

So why is it that a bed without the sleeping brunet seems so… lifeless?

Suddenly, the illuminated bedroom feels far too impersonal.

When Haruka woke up, the sudden urge he felt to just lay there and make out with the stranger scared the hell out of him. The foreign sensation was so strong that he had to hide in order to prevent himself from stepping beyond his comfort zone.

 _It’s fine._ He turns his head to the side, avoiding the blank view of white sheets and snowy walls, and puts the pajamas back on, then heads downstairs to cook some breakfast.

Thankfully, the food never fails in improving his mood.

However, the heartless gaze changes once he notices the yellow piece of paper pinned to the refrigerator’s door, heart skipping a beat at the scene. He wonders briefly if his guest left him a phone number, biting his lips in anticipation, but it is with uneasy eyes and trembling fingers lingering over the note that he reads its content, over and over again.

Over and over, again and again.

 _Thank you,_ it is all the message says.

 

 

Makoto’s head is made of thunder and chaos, so he ignores the streets he had been so thrilled to explore the night before. It doesn’t matter anymore; all he cares about is leaving the small town and going home.

At least once he gets to his apartment he can watch cat videos online and eat ice cream to his heart’s content. He might ask Kisumi to come over too, so they can eat sweet things and spend a happy moment, pushing the cloud above Makoto’s head far away from him.

At this moment, he sees a bus coming his way, probably making a stop at the bus station. The vehicle is still a bit far, so there is a chance Makoto can get to the station on time. Luckily, the stranger’s house is close to the location. The bus can be his salvation from this place.

Running for his life, abused lungs complaining and throat dry, Makoto manages to catch the bus, making sure with the driver that it’s indeed heading to Tokyo before entering the vehicle and settling in a seat close to the window.

Emerald doesn’t see the other passengers or the beautiful sight of the city across the window.

Now that he found a way back to his life, Makoto feels lighter somehow and replays the last events on his head. The delight and the sensations he felt were so good that he decides to let the pain go, to not regret a thing about his adventure. The only thing filling his mind is the taste of the stranger’s milk colored skin, the way his tongue moved with his own and the feelings of being held by someone else, someone you are attracted to.

Not mentioning that he is super glad for knowing that he can have pleasure at sex, mind you, even if it’s with a guy. This by itself is the best news he heard in a very long time.

Makoto takes his cell phone out of his pockets and discovers that Kisumi had left a lot of messages for him. _So he had been worried._ Chuckling softly, the brunet types a quickly reply and rests his forehead on the glass, staring outside and thinking about sapphire eyes on the whole way home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is late, so late at night.  
> Makoto finally lays his head on the bed and closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. The peace doesn’t last long, however.  
> As soon as his eyelids shut, a mix of cold, sapphire eyes and dark hair fills his mind, and his breath hitches.  
> “Fuuuuuck”.

In Tachibana Makoto’s humble opinion, Saturday is the best day of the week to spend at the coffee shop, when the rush of clients coming and going is slower, and the employees can just appreciate the aroma of cinnamon and chocolate hanging in the air.

That’s the reason why his heart feels as bright as the evening afternoon while he, Kisumi, and Gou prepare sweet treats for the bakery section and clean every inch of the place. They have been working like this for years, first during college and now, after the recent graduation, they kept their tasks at Rei’s shop until better opportunities come ahead.

Even if the brunet believes that one can make his own future, he doesn’t discard the power of fate, and so he waits, for a miracle, for a change, for something to help him achieve his dreams.

Or possibly he just waits for the shadows of the past to tire and disappear.

But not for long though, as the gears of fortune are finally turning his way.

“I just finished another one,” Gou speaks to no one in particular, but the shorter boy, who recognizes every hush in Gou’s tone of voice, stands up and carries the large pie to the counter.

“Oh, that reminds me…” Kisumi glances at Makoto while putting the pie on the right spot, next to the ones previously made by the girl. “Can you believe that it’s been a year since our little adventure, Makoto?”

Said man continues to wipe the glass window on the other side of the room, but he indulges his friend with a sincere smile. “I know, right? Time flies sometimes...”

Nobody sees it coming when Gou hits Kisumi on the head with the dishcloth, causing the boy to squirm. “Hey!”

Red eyes narrow in fury and Gou steps forward, closer to Kisumi. “How dare you talk about that night so freely? Have you forgotten what you did?”

“What are you talking about?” the cotton-haired man whines, half hiding behind the counter.

“I am talking about the way you left Makoto in that gay bar, without any means to come back. It’s a two-hour drive from here! Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” Gou rests her hands on her hips, in a demanding position, the anger irradiating from her body.

At times like these, it’s with guilt that Makoto observes how much like a general Gou behaves – she is a true leader at heart. Unfortunately for the boys, it didn’t take long for Gou to find out about Makoto’s experience at the gay bar, and to say that she had been in a violent mood is a poor understatement. Kisumi had to disappear for a week once, until her rage eased up a bit.

She is a Matsuoka, after all.

Chuckling, Makoto decides to help his friend out and ease her fears.

“It’s okay Gou, you know Kisumi didn’t mean to get me into trouble.” He approaches his co-workers. “He just thought that I needed some fun, and I did have fun that night.”

Red meets purple, and Makoto pretends not to see the meaningful glance exchanged by Gou and Kisumi, tries not to think about the many ways in which his friends had to help him deal with his heartbreak after the adventure. It took him a long time to become his cheerful self again.

He isn’t lying though… if he could go back in time, that night would be his first choice to return to. _Nothing good will come out of messing with the past,_ he tells himself because he doesn’t own a time machine. There is just the present and the future to look forward to.

After a while, when the cleaning chores are done, they wash their hands and settle around the counter to make the rest of the pastries for the late afternoon rush.

Since Kisumi knows no limits, he pushes his luck one more time.

“You know, Makoto… do you still think about him?” the pink-haired man asks, receiving a harsh shove on the elbows by the concerned girl.

“Stop it…” she quietly complains at the boy.

Green eyes take in the scene before him, and his insides burn with gratitude as he studies his loyal friends. But there are some fragments of memories that not even Makoto can share, moments spent in the emptiness of his bedroom, thoughts that belong to him alone…

Things he wouldn’t be able to say out loud even if he wanted to.

 

 

_It is late, so late at night._

_Makoto finally lays his head on the bed and closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. It has been a long, fun weekend, after all, with the twins around until moments ago. Ran and Ren can be a handful, but they do care about spending time with their older brother._

_The peace doesn’t last long, however._

_As soon as his eyelids shut, a mix of cold, sapphire eyes and dark hair fills his mind, and his breath hitches._

_“Fuuuuuck”._

_Makoto covers his face with one arm, willing the memories to disappear, but it seems that his mind is stubborn when it comes to the man of his dreams._

_Dreams. That word expresses what the stranger is now: an ever-constant presence playing in the background of his mind. Every night, the visions are the same, like an old disc repeating itself over and over again._

_Rolling onto his side, Makoto stares at the patterns created by the shadows on the dark wall, hugging a pillow above his chest. The room isn’t completely black since the window is open, allowing the street’s light to come in._

_The boy admits that everything would be much easier if he could just go back to the gay bar, but he can’t. The man has made it pretty clear that he doesn’t intend to see Makoto for a second time. He did hide in the bathroom of his own house, waiting for Makoto to leave, didn’t he? That upsets Makoto because he’s never meant to be a bother for the handsome stranger._

_His long eyelashes flutter shut, and the brunet isn’t surprised when a flash of porcelain skin is conjured._

_At first, he was convinced that the images would fade away, eventually, that the visions were just his clingy personality kicking in, but months after the incident, nothing has changed, at all._

_More often than not, he finds bits of the stranger in the twilight colors of the sky, in the sight of a person dancing, in the sound of water rushing and at the taste of cold beer._

_He finds him now in the dimness of his bedroom._

_Makoto remembers the drenched, raven hair plastered on the smooth forehead, the way his skin sparkled in the moonlight and the boy’s weight over him. He remembers those glorious eyes keeping him grounded, safe._

_Brushing his legs together, the brunet tries to still his growing arousal, without much success. As an answer to the loneliness and hunger, his mind debates for a long, long time before finally surrendering to the starvation._

_Even though his body doesn’t usually react when in contact with other people, Makoto does feel turned on, quite a lot. The difference is that he’s been taking care of it in a mechanical kind of way since his teenage years. Now, however, every inch of his soul responds to visions of the blue-eyed man, and he can’t control the need and desire that threatens to suffocate him._

_Over-stimulated, he decides to try something new._

_Carefully, large hands travel over his clothed form, pushing inside his shirt to touch the skin underneath. Makoto tries rubbing his fingers over the sensitive nipples and feels the peaks harden at the soft caress._

_Truthfully, the whole foreplay thing is still a bit awkward for Makoto, who has always been shy about exploring his erotic zones, but it has been… Well, it has been months since their encounter._

_Meaning that, right at this moment, his body is begging for release._

_So he bites his lips hard and moves his hands to the loose pajama pants, fingers rubbing on bare flesh, the habit of sleeping without underwear making everything easier now._

_His mind wonders… would the blue-eyed man sleep without that piece of clothing too? Would he be locked in his room, seeking pleasure by himself, at that same moment?_

_Realistically speaking though, the stranger wouldn’t be alone – if what Makoto experienced was true, the blue-eyed boy seemed very skilled in sleeping with different partners. However, the brunet deliberately refuses to think about the chosen substitute for him as a sex partner, whoever that is. Thinking about it only distresses him, anyway._

_When warm fingers grasp his hard cock, the boy hides his blushing face into the pillows. Later on, he hides the ragged breaths, the way his eyes squeeze shut with the steady strokes, and even his flushed lips. But more than anything, he hides the pain reflected in his emerald gaze._

_Makoto intentionally speeds up his pace, evoking the sight of the man sliding down on top of him. He can almost feel the warm puffs of breath on his face, the other’s silky hair hovering over his temple, the sticky nose bumping against his own, and the lips that tasted like midnight fairytales._

_Before the sandy-haired man realizes it, there are silent tears falling down his cheeks, and the boy isn’t sure if the cause for the strong reaction is his aroused state or his fresh heartbreak._

_He manages to come a while later, cum dirtying his pants and quiet sobs leaving wet marks on the sheets._

 

 

“Do you still think about him?”

 

 

The chocolate-haired boy wakes up from his reverie with Kisumi’s troubled face right in front of him. “Are you ok?” he asks, placing a hand on the brunet’s shoulders. Makoto notices Gou’s nervous expression out of the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I am.” Makoto laughs, and then does something horrible, that fills his gut with a poisonous taste. He clears his throat and _lies_. “I don’t think about him anymore. I am over it.”

The lie is so raw the boy needs to turn his gaze away to finish the words. Gou and Kisumi should be able to differentiate the patterns in Makoto’s speech by now but in reality they can’t, which makes the consequences of the speech even worse.

“Oh, that is so great, Makoto.” Gou grabs his hands, entwining her fingers with his. “I am sure there is someone out there who will love you in all the right ways,” she speaks with red, shimmering eyes.

_Love me in all the right ways._

There’s just one person he is interested in, someone he doesn’t even know by name, and that person showed no interest in things like love, or relationships, so…

“Yeah.” The brunet smiles gratefully at his true best friends, disentangling himself. “Thank you, Gou.”

Instead of going back to the task of spreading the flour over the counter and mixing the ingredients for the pastries, Makoto grabs the broom and heads outside, muscles tense under the mask of tenderness he so constantly wears.

Needless to point out how uncomfortable the silence is that overtakes Gou and Kisumi. With just a glance from the beautiful girl, the lively boy follows his friend out of the door.

The strange thing about Shigino Kisumi is that, once an idea enters his mind, there is no way to stop it, a trait of his character that turns his charming personality into something… pushing, annoying. He finds the brunet wiping a table outside the coffee shop, humming a sweet tune and apparently enjoying the chilly air. The cotton-haired man doesn’t fall for it.

“Makoto, you should find a girlfriend,” Kisumi states and Makoto doesn’t even look up from his chore. “Or a boyfriend, whatever you’re into these days.”

“Why is that?” Makoto can’t help but to chuckle, turning towards his friend.

The pink-haired man whines. “Because it’s been a year!” He shakes Makoto’s shoulders again to emphasize his point, an old habit that Makoto is more than used to. “You need to get laid, man. I am worried about your dick.”

The brunet flushes, which causes him to chuckle more in his awkwardness, walking away from the other’s claustrophobic embrace. It’s unusual for Kisumi to speak in this manner. The vulgar language is a sign of how worried and guilty he truly feels.

Sitting on the farthest chair, placed almost at the alleyway, Makoto studies the other with a brotherly-like gaze and decides that it’s time to put an end to his concerns.

“My d – _I_ am fine. Are you sure you want to bring this up again? Gou might hear you...”

Pushing his friend’s buttons is an act Makoto doesn’t enjoy, but he wants to avoid pointing out how nerve-wracking that experience had been for him. Especially because sapphire eyes still haunt his mind every night, which might be a problem for the ‘dating’ subject.

If there is a reason for Makoto’s loneliness, it would be the oceanic depths of his caring personality. The first key to turn his body on is to enlighten his mind’s interest, to make his soul crave the closeness of another, and then maybe his physique can move to the next step too.

The problem lays in the fact that, for most people of his age, such closure comes from satiating the body’s needs first and sharing personal things second.

Not that he talked that much with the blue-eyed man, but instead of words, with him he found this connection, this understanding, he has never achieved with anyone else before.

The simple truth, the one he isn’t able to tell Kisumi, is that he is embarrassed by his feelings. It doesn’t make sense, not even to himself, how he keeps hanging by a moment like this.

But again, love isn’t supposed to make sense from the start, right?

_Wait… love?_

Makoto’s entire body freezes at the gloomy realization.

_How in the world did that happen?_

_When did it happen?_

_I don’t even know his name._

“Ahhh Makoto, stop talking like Gou!” Kisumi complains, unaware of his friends mounting problems, and sits across from him. “Really, you don’t fool me. Have you even tried?”

“Tried… what?” Makoto can’t be blamed for not following the conversation properly. A cold sweat leaves goosebumps on his skin and his fingers tremble.

His friend sighs, and continues. “When was the last time you have been with someone? I am not even talking about… sex, but… just kissing, at least?” The boy pats his forearm as if Makoto were a child who needs a lot of guidance.

As if fighting death eaters in the afterlife, Makoto tries to concentrate and answer the boy.

Biting his lips, Makoto thinks about it for a moment, emerald eyes clouding and losing focus when he remembers the last time someone approached him, romantically speaking.

It feels like a lifetime ago.

_Makoto leans against the metallic fence, staring at the orange and red shades of the sky. The sunset is his new favorite part of the day, the space between two opposites where everything seems possible, reachable. The pleasant breeze caresses his sandy hair like a gentle mother._

_It is quiet out in the balcony, a nice change from the loud sounds coming from Kisumi’s apartment. He sips at his soda, enjoying the way the sugary flavor travels through his mouth. Really, he would rather stay outside for the rest of the evening than play cards with his incredible, but beyond drunken friends at this party._

_The boy is usually more energetic, but after a long week of college and his part-time job, all Makoto desires are soft pillows, comfortable sheets and a book to read. That sounds like heaven to him._

_“Is it because I am getting old? I wonder…” he murmurs to himself._

_At this moment, a blond man he doesn’t know by name joins him in the small space, nodding at Makoto before settling by his side._

_“Are you tired of the party already?” the boy teases._

_Makoto smiles sympathetically at him, tilting his head to the side. “Yeah… kind of...”_

_The blond glances down at his drink. “I noticed you haven’t drunk any beer. Do you dislike alcohol or something?”_

_Jade eyes widen at the observation, and he lowers his gaze to his cup too. “I… no, I don’t.” He doesn’t feel inclined to share his reasons though. The cold soda is good enough for his taste._

_The man playfully shoves Makoto’s shoulders with his own. “I am not judging you. I think it’s really cool.”_

_At the sweet answer, Makoto relaxes and chuckles, happy. “I am glad.”_

_When he side-glances at Kisumi’s friend, he realizes their faces are very close to each other, and his skin turns a shade darker. Makoto considers if moving his body will be an offensive thing to do._

_The brunet shouldn’t have hesitated because, under the dying sun, the man leans in and brushes his feather light lips against Makoto’s._

_It’s gentle and fast, and soon the man is laughing and staring at the horizon, speaking to Makoto as if nothing had happened. On the other hand, the brunet finds it very hard to form words._

_There is a strange quietness inside his mind, and for a while he just stares at the view, knuckles growing white from the tight hold on the railing while the city lights awaken in its thirsty for pleasure and entertaining._

_Then Kisumi’s loud giggle, coming from inside the apartment, starts Makoto from his contemplations, green eyes blinking slowly in its stirring._

_The astonishment in Makoto’s heart turns into humiliation for blanking out like that._

_Moving one finger after the other, he disentangles his hands and smiles politely at the blond. “I am going now,” he says, meaning he isn’t heading back to the party. He is going home._

_The man alarms, and apologizes. “You don’t have to go… if it’s about… I am so sorry for –”_

_Makoto interrupts, because he doesn’t want the boy to be confused about anything since it isn’t his fault._

_“No… it felt good. I just really have a lot of things to finish, so… take care.”_

_With a wave of his hands and a last smile, Makoto turns and grabs the knob of the glass entrance._

_“Is there someone else?” the stranger asks before Makoto leaves the balcony._

_The brunet stills at the question. He’s been debating this matter for a very long time and now, months later, he still doesn’t have a proper answer._

_The one thing he knows is that the gentle kiss tasted like icy popsicles and alcohol. It should have felt like freedom, if only Makoto could feel anything._

_His heart just died for a second, weighing a ton in his chest, which doesn’t count._

_Granted, his natural tendency for the lack of physical attraction for others is back in full force._

_For better or for worse, it seems that all Makoto cares about are wild, violent kisses with peppermint flavor that even now, nine months later, still distresses his soul._

_Smiling, jade eyes focus on the blond for one last time._

_“Yeah, you could say so… I think,” he drops, before disappearing behind the door._

 

 

To this day, Makoto doesn’t know if walking away from the handsome guy was the right decision. After getting home that day, he realized how hot the man was, and a small amount of regret sneaked inside him. Even so, he couldn’t help comparing both kisses. When the stranger touched him, his mind drifted back to a time when he opened himself, in every possible way, for a person who kicked him out in the morning.

There is no anger, only curiosity, in his heart, when he stares at Kisumi again.

“Someone kissed me at your summer party,” he explains, feeling a bit shy and excited.

“Really? How come you never said anything?” Kisumi’s eyes brighten like fireworks. “Was it good? Wait, who was it?”

Makoto isn’t sure how to describe the kiss, and he is saved by Gou, who appears in front of the shop and extends a finger towards the pink-haired boy. “I need you for a second. Come here, please.” Then she disappears just as fast as she came, shaking her ponytail while turning her body to the door.

“Ah, duty calls me.” His friend’s face sinks, but he immediately winks at Makoto. “We will talk about it later, my friend.” With the threat hanging in the air, Kisumi follows the demanding girl into the shop.

It is with a tender expression that the brunet watches his friends through the open door and notices the way Kisumi casually enters Gou’s personal space, just _lingering_ there. They are both laughing, hands touching and eyes locking for more seconds than good manners require.

At first, he had been confused beyond imagination. I mean, wasn’t Kisumi gay? Makoto couldn’t help feeling a little betrayed. But now, he just smiles and hopes they both surrender to the pulling of attraction going on between them. Their exciting personalities will combine well with each other, Makoto thinks.

With the sentiment that he had been intruding in a personal moment, emerald eyes glance at the streets, appreciating the cascade of dried leaves covering the floor, the chilly breeze and the unusually slow movement of people outside. Under the nightfall, the place shines with natural, ethereal light. A few people enter the coffee shop or enjoy their drinks outside, just like him.

There are sides of Tokyo that Makoto can’t help but be in love with, the lovely shades of autumn being one of them. Even after so many years, his hometown still strikes him every single day, and Makoto wonders if it’s always going to be this way… if his interests are ever going to change.

Over the months, the sand-haired boy has started to consider stepping out of his comfort zone again. Thinking about the future, drawing plans and jumping straight into the wildness… that is the life of a growing, healthy man, isn’t it?

What sticks to his head is that, if he can pursue his dreams, maybe he’ll be able to let go of the past, to forget about the mysterious blue eyes that felt like the ocean to him; frightening, tempting, and so very addicting.

A deep gaze that could read right through his thick skin, like now, when they stare at the depths of his soul….

It takes a moment for Makoto to wake up from his daydreams, and once he does, dark eyelashes blink fast and he stands up in a hurry, almost knocking the chair onto the floor as he rises.

Across the street, his blue-eyed man stands still, silky hair dancing with the breeze, shimmering gaze boring into him, in flesh and blood and _so very real_.

Immediately, the violent race of his heartbeat hurts him in its struggle to overflow.

They have been staring at each other for quite some time before Makoto realized what was going on, which makes him feel rather foolish, biting his lips in anxiety.

_This is bad._

It’s unfamiliar the way his heart flips in his rib cages when he studies the other man. The raven hair is longer than he remembers, with the bangs descending over the side of his face, but everything else is just the same. It’s the same gorgeous person he met four seasons before.

For better or for worse, Makoto could never mistake that slender silhouette with anyone else.

Slowly, the stranger walks up to him, and Makoto notices the white uniform he wears, and there is a small, red apron tied across his waist. The man holds the collar of a fluff, cream-like dog, and the breath is knocked out of Makoto once he catches the dog’s gaze.

Its eyes are almost a jade shade of green. _Just like my own eyes,_ he thinks.

The footsteps are steady while Makoto waits an eternity for the man to approach him, not even the trees daring to move and disturb the tension that hangs heavy in the air.

_What is he doing here?_

Since the brunet has no idea what to do or what to talk about, he settles for fixing his attention on the pet. When the man is close enough, he crouches and gently pats the dog’s head. “Hey buddy, how is it going?” the boy says, enjoying the sweet bark and lick he receives and looks up at the stranger with a cheerful expression. “He’s so cute. Oh! Is he a male?”

“Yeah,” is the curt answer; the smooth voice reaches his ears with such familiarity that Makoto feels sick to his stomach, his mind drifting to the time when that voice had been speaking sweet promises in his ears.

“How do you call him?” Makoto continues, trying not to freak out as the man hovers over him, but the answer never comes. As an awkward silence assaults them, the sandy-haired man gradually climbs to his feet. That is when he notices the small tag on the man’s shirt.

The name _Haruka_ is written on it.

“Is that… your name?” Makoto spills without thinking, and the stranger – _Haruka_ – turns his head to the side and frowns slightly. The sight is so endearing that Makoto isn’t sure if he should feel embarrassed for the sudden wave of fascination that overtook him, or guilty for putting such a troubled expression on the man’s face. His compassionate nature settles for the latter.

“Sorry, I – I didn’t mean to meddle in your business like that.”  He smiles sheepishly and tilts his head to the side. He might as well explain his reasons to the man since they’ll probably never see each other again. “I wasn’t expecting to meet you here, you caught me off guard… and I panicked.” He laughs with a bit of shame.

Without a word, the man just stares back at Makoto with an emotion in his eyes that the brunet doesn’t quite recognize, face impassive and silent as always.

While Makoto memorizes the beautiful features, the outline of his jaw and the fine edges of his neck, the answer to his doubts bloom distantly in his heart and, little by little, every plumage of the light chuckle is carried away by the soft breeze.

Yes, Makoto does like him, more with each passing day.

Exactly because of that, he thinks about how right was the choice to avoid him. The stranger is just too stunning for Makoto’s own good, especially when it’s only Makoto’s mind going crazy and feeling this way.

Does the man even remember Makoto, at all? It sure doesn’t seem so.

Before Makoto moves away from this person, the very same man that defines the meaning of magic to him, his stomach already cries by the dense taste of his cowardice. Out of nowhere, his mind drifts once again to Kisumi’s party, to the moment that he stepped out of the balcony.

Is that the person he has become? Someone who will always turn around and avoid confrontations? Someone who escapes everything and everyone?

Well, maybe everything or everyone related to this boy who stares at him as if he is made of glass. More than anything, Makoto doesn’t want to push his burdensome feelings into Haruka’s hands.

In a daze, Makoto clumsily steps backward, heart hammering inside his body like thunder. “It was good to see you.” _But I have to go now_. “Take care, Haruka.”

After delivering his goodbyes, he turns around to leave, muscles tense, heavy and unsteady.

However, Makoto’s fear about the situation repeating itself is rather foolish. Like C. S. Lewis once stated, things never happen the same way twice. Besides, Haruka’s personality isn’t similar to the teenager Makoto met in the last summer party, which is part of the reason why their ‘relationship’ survived after so many months apart.

In the blink of an eye, Haruka grabs Makoto by the arm, drags him through the alleyway and shoves him hard against the wall, aggressively. Next thing Makoto knows, there are strong hands pinning him to the bricks, and he stares at the man with huge emerald eyes, surprise and pain staining his face.

“One year, Makoto,” the stranger declares, glaring at Makoto’s collarbones then at the uneasy dog. “Shut it, Makkou,” he shushes the dog’s cries with a commanding tone of voice. The dog comes closer to them and starts licking Haruka’s shoes in anxiety.

The brunet is so lightheaded he doesn’t perceive the similarity between the called name and his own; he tries to free himself, but the movement catches the man’s attention, and he just puts more strength into his arms.

“One year…” Haruka repeats, facing Makoto this time, and the helplessness Makoto reads in his face makes the brunet still in his search for freedom. Unconsciously, he brings one hand up to touch Haruka’s cheeks, willing the wrinkles in his frown to disappear, and his other hand cups the raven-haired boy’s ones over his chest.

“I know,” he whispers quietly, ocean blue eyes burning into earth green ones. As if pulled by an invisible magnet, their bodies collide in an awkward but desperate kind of way.

A few hours before, Makoto wouldn’t have guessed that _his stranger_ would be here, resting against his frame, warm and perfect. It is an unthinkable sight. Neither would he have believed their bodies would be clinging against each other, in a suffocating embrace. As the night shadows cover the alleyway, their lips search, melt, in a tender, lingering kiss.

Haruka’s tongue slides inside Makoto’s mouth, savoring the combination of hot chocolate, strawberry, Chantilly and whatever Makoto ate during the afternoon. The sweetness in him is so strong that it radiates from his deep-toned skin. On the other hand, Haruka tastes so much better than Makoto remembers when he licks at the silk skin of his jaw. The raven-haired man smells faintly of fish and other cooking ingredients, and Makoto guesses it has something to do with the neat apron Haruka wears.

Astonished, the brunet realizes he doesn’t dislike it. This is just _Haruka_ , and Makoto would have him in every possible way.

“What time… is the end of… your shift?” The charming voice reaches his ears between the kisses, pushing a leg between Makoto’s thighs and winning a soft moan from the brunet.

“A couple hours… ah… from now… ah… why?” the brunet asks hesitantly since he still doesn’t quite believe his senses. He might as well be having a wet dream.

“I will be waiting…” he says, with one last suck at his lower lip, “for you.”

And then Haruka is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank my beta eggdropsoupao3! You work was wonderful, thank you!  
> This chapter became way too long, so I divided it in two, which means I will upload the final part later this week.  
> By the way, Makkou is Haruka's dog in High Speed!, and I don't know what happened with Kisumi and Gou here since I ship her with the older Mikoshiba brother haha  
> Thank you for all the kudos and the comments, it's way more than I was expecting, they made me so happy!
> 
> You can find me at herewegohappiness.tumblr.com :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, familiar fingers enter the cardigan and shirt, nails grazing the flesh underneath, and Makoto shivers at the hot sensation, his heartbeat vibrating loudly in his ears.  
> “Did you miss me?” Haruka whispers softly, biting hard at the nape of his neck.

Later that night, Makoto closes the coffee shop half an hour after Kisumi and Gou left. He has changed his clothes to a dark cardigan, white shirt, and a pair of light jeans, the same items he came in that morning. He is grateful for the uniform Rei forces his employees to wear at work.

Uneasiness fills his body as he turns the key in the door one last time, because he isn’t quite sure about how the night is going to flow. There is also the matter that, if the stranger does keep his promise and waits for him outside, he might disappear in the morning.

_Is it going to hurt less since I am used to the pain?_

Makoto doesn’t know, so he decides to take things on his own hands, picking his home as the place for their ‘date’.

After all… this is what the stranger is looking for, right? A hot, satisfying round of free sex and no worries when the morning comes.

Makoto just hopes he will be able to live up to Haruka’s expectations…

The chocolate-haired man stares at the _‘Closed’_ sign at the door to calm himself down.

 _Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. It’s that simple, Makoto._ Finally, he spins around.

Across the street, leaning against a wall, is the man that turned him into a panting mess months before. The stranger waits for him to come closer then pushes himself off from the bricks and falls in sync with Makoto’s footsteps. Haruka gives him a sideways glance. “You are late,” he states with a blank face, but Makoto notices the slightly narrowed blue eyes.

Also, Makoto observes that he is wearing a stripped, white shirt and capri pants, looking like a totally different person from the past. The shirt is made out of a soft material and, even though the pants are tight, they fit his body in a nicer way than the leather ones he wore at the bar.

“You look good,” Makoto speaks before he can stop himself. He hides his blush by checking the hour on his wristwatch. “I am sorry, I had to finish a few things on the shop.” _And_ _take a shower and get ready and whatever._

“It’s fine,” the man speaks, staring straight ahead.

“Haruka… do you mind if we go to my place this time?” Makoto suddenly stops in his tracks to face his companion.

Sapphire eyes turn as bright as the street lights, surprised at Makoto’s boldness, and the man turns his flushed face to the side. “Not really,” he mutters.

Makoto stares at him for a while, considering the answer. The chocolate-haired man doesn’t understand this person, but he desperately wants to. I mean, isn’t he afraid? Isn’t he even going to ask where the house is?

But again, didn’t Makoto follow him without questioning during their first time?

So why does Makoto feel the need to reach out and brush the hair out of that boyish face? Which Makoto does, leading to Haruka facing him again and kissing him slowly, deliberating, and not so much as feeling but exploring, a silent sign for trusting in Makoto’s lead.

“Let’s go,” Makoto whispers into Haruka’s mouth, gently grabbing the man’s hands and pulling him past the next few blocks.

Even though it’s still quite far from the end of the year, a few decorations are starting to appear here and there, and the weather is beginning to change into something colder, prettier. The busiest side of Tokyo doesn’t stretch to this neighborhood, so there is just the quiet noise of their footsteps enveloping their overthinking minds.

The only thing keeping them grounded is their entwined fingers brushing against each other.

They finally arrive at the old building, climbing the stairs to the fourth floor, walking down the corridor and stopping for Makoto to grab his keys and unlock the door.

The brunet crosses the doorframe first but stills when he feels Haruka’s body reach out for him. He remains with his back turned to his companion, who closes the door with a clicking sound behind him. They keep the lights off, just a tiny bit of lighting coming from the streets filtered through the window’s curtain.

At the entrance of his apartment, Makoto feels warm hands trace over the outlines of his shoulders, sliding down to his arms and leaving goosebumps on the way to his wrists, then going back up and slowly reaching down to his hips.

Finally, familiar fingers enter the cardigan and shirt, nails grazing the flesh underneath, and Makoto shivers at the hot sensation, his heartbeat vibrating loudly in his ears.

“Did you miss me?” Haruka whispers softly, biting hard at the nape of his neck.

“Ah!” Makoto can’t help the soft noise that escapes his thin lips. “Did you?” comes the reply, while he reaches his hands behind him to hold the man’s head and wordlessly tell him to continue, and the man complies by sucking at the base of his shoulders.

“Mhm,” Haruka murmurs, brushing his fingers over Makoto’s lower belly, and teases him by scratching his light naval hair. But before he can unzip Makoto’s pants, the brunet turns around and kisses him, gently guiding Haruka until his back touches the door.

The chocolate-haired man explores the clothed chest with his hands and relishes in how muscular it is. Haruka’s body is just so beautiful, so _stunning_ , when it responds to his touches like this: arms embracing his neck and holding him close, without attempting to go much further. The unusual ‘passiveness’ in his partner tells Makoto that Haruka is letting him take the lead for a while.

Makoto’s mind feels like it’s going to tear apart. One side is pulling, urging the boy to try his hardest to enjoy the moment, _their moment together_. While the other side is holding him back, forcing him to think. It’s too much; the two sides are clashing and spiraling, moving far too fast for his own liking, and he sees flashes of his lonely nights, jerking himself off and crying by himself like some pathetic human being.

_What would Haruka say if he knew just how pitiful I became?_

So, in attempt to forget, because he needs to chill out, to get out of his head for at least one night, the brunet decides that, whatever heartbreak comes his way, he will deal with it in the morning.

His lips escape Haruka’s, discovering the man’s collarbones and shoulders a little bit at a time. The man smells like something fresh, intrinsic, like one would smell after spending a day at the beach, a mix of sun, salt, sand and water.

Over the shirt’s fabric, Makoto bites lightly at the hard nipples, gaining a shaky breath in response, and travels further down, until he is sinking to his knees, between the man’s legs.

He isn’t sure about what he is going to do next, since he hasn’t ever touched another man _like he is intending to do now_ , but his body wants this stranger, needs Haruka to remember this, to remember him.

Once Haruka realizes Makoto’s intentions, he leans over him, the worried expression doesn’t sit well in his usually placid features. Makoto reassures the boy with a tiny smile.

Feather light touches graze over the front of Haruka’s shirt, reaching out for his pants and slowly undoing the button, making a ‘popping’ sound. All one can hear is their ragged breaths, and the noise of the zipper opening seems rather loud in the quiet room.

There is a huge bulge in the navy underwear Haruka is wearing, and Makoto doesn’t need to be a genius to realize the man is very, very hard. His fingers trail along the outside of the erect member, feeling all the lovely edges twitch under his light touch.

He starts squeezing it through the fabric until something clicks in his head and he brings his face closer to lick it. Haruka gasps, and green eyes watch him move with earnest interest while he mouths at his cock, trailing small bites over the length and tasting the pre-cum that leaked through the underwear.

Then he frees Haruka’s cock from that piece of clothing.

At the sight that appears in front of him, Makoto gulps. Despite his best efforts, he hesitates.

His mind won’t stop overthinking.

Haruka’s cock is _big_ – maybe not bigger than Makoto’s, but still impressive. He had forgotten that. How in the world did that fit inside of him so easily? Suddenly, Makoto recalls it wasn’t so easy, it hurt like hell. And while his attention wonders, the cock remains directed at his face, rock hard, dripping pre-cum and smelling like sex.

When wide, emerald eyes look up at Haruka, there’s a storm of emotions swirling in them.

Haruka easily reads the apprehension in the innocent face, but he mistakes the reasons. He brings his hands up to Makoto’s cheek. “If you don’t want to, don’t force yourself,” he whispers.

At being stared at with such a cold gaze, Makoto visibly flinches.

But… if he doesn’t keep things going, Haruka will leave, won’t he?

The only reason the raven-haired man has to be in Makoto’s apartment is sex. For some reason the brunet can’t fathom, Haruka seems attracted to his body, but that is all there is to it, nothing else. Those thoughts cause a heavy weight to form in his chest, and Makoto panics.

_What to do, what to do, so Haruka won’t go away?_

Makoto rests his hands on the wall to support himself, pinning Haruka between his arms as a result. As he stares at Haruka’s thigh, his frenzied mind finally reaches a state so full that it becomes blank with the need to overflow. Before he can control his mouth, the words are already hanging heavily in the air.

“But… this is why you came here, right?”

 

 

Makoto’s eyes are so dark that his pupils are blown wide and the green color looks almost brown in the dim light. The sight shakes Haruka to the core because for the very first time he understands Makoto’s expression for what it is: pain, hurt, and betrayal are written all over it.

He is so surprised he almost removes his fingers from Makoto’s cheek – _almost_. Because what he sees is just a reflection of his own feelings. He too felt lost and scared, and lonely, just because of a one night stand he started on a whim.

There was no way for him to know, back then, that he wouldn’t be able to get the boy out of his head, which turned out to be a huge problem…

 

 

 _Haruka sits at the rustic table, staring nervously at his surrounds. The cold profile doesn’t betray the bitter truth that starts to sink into his heart, except for the uneasiness in the sapphire_ _gaze._

_His eyes travel over the silhouettes of the gay bar, searching for a familiar face between all the people that spend their time playing pool, gathering at the dancing floor, or showing their bodies off on top of the counter. So far, there isn’t a single sign of those innocent, emerald eyes._

_The raven-haired man knows he should give up already. After all, he has been waiting for a chance of meeting the boy again, without success, for a very long time. The only thing he knows is the man’s first name, Makoto. But that information isn’t enough to find the man, since the brunet visited the bar just once, speaking only to Haruka on that night._

_So even if he desperately needs to, Haruka has no available resources to track Makoto down._

_The more Haruka thinks about it, the angrier he gets._

_Why in the world did he ignore Makoto that way? Hiding in the bathroom, escaping to the water, and letting the boy walk out of his life?_

_Granted, Haruka never imagined the powerful impression the encounter would leave on him._

_But maybe that is just the fucked up way in which life works. Sometimes you run into someone that will change everything, and life gives you no sign of it, it doesn’t warn you in any way of how hard your fall will be._

_Makoto was the hurricane that turned his life upside down and left Haruka stuck inside the storm. The worst part is that was so easy, so easy, for him to drown. The steaming touch tainted his chilly skin, and the image of Makoto’s huge emerald eyes and messy hair, breathless beneath him, is engraved in his eyelids._

_And his voice…oh, the sweet honeyed noises Makoto made while begging for Haruka to give him endless pleasure… No other partner can compare._

_When Haruka hears the claps and whistles, he starts and realizes that it’s show time, so his gaze moves back to the commotion gathered by the center of the bar._

_It has been a long while since he had stolen the spotlight with his dance movements for the last time. Haruka couldn’t bear to go up there anymore, so he stopped forcing himself. He isn’t okay, so why bother to pretend the contrary? Haruka has no one to respond to, anyway._

_Even if he denies it feverously, deep down he recognizes that the reason for his lack of motivation is intrinsically related to the handsome brunet he met six months before, meaning that the sand-haired man isn’t there to watch him dance a second time._

_And without Makoto there, Haruka just kept staring down while swaying; looking for something that he couldn’t have, searching for ghosts that were long gone._

_Lost in his thoughts, the raven-haired man peels the skin off his fingers unconsciously, a nervous habit he developed recently, which may or may not have something to do with the zero percentage of tobacco running through his blood system._

_The night passes by unnoticed, anticipation burning heavy inside Haruka while he waits._

_What scares Haruka the most is that Makoto’s gentle face is starting to escape his memory, morphing into a blurred picture, and he is terrified of the day he won’t be able to put all the lovely details together anymore._

_His mind is following the demanding rules of time, his memories falling into oblivion. Even the boy’s name escapes his mind sometimes._

_Luckily, Haruka still remembers a lot about the life-changing man. He recalls the exact moment Makoto entered through those doors, gorgeous in his unsteady footsteps and wide-eyed. ‘Such an unusual expression,’ Haruka thought at the time._

_He wasn’t prepared for all the endearing expressions Makoto could make when flustered, embarrassed, and lost in the pleasure. He even showed endearing expressions while sleeping._

_The green-eyed boy was so charming that controlled, independent, and selfish Haruka got imprisoned in his own undoing, and couldn’t will himself to just let go._

_Unfortunately, he did try. But after some time of frustration and agony, he found out that letting go wasn’t an option anymore. And now, contrary to his previous opinions, Haruka holds on to Makoto’s existence like a lifeline._

_Smiling lightly while thinking about the man’s sleeping face, Haruka finishes his vodka and wipes the tiny drops of alcohol from his mouth with his hands._

_Then, the music suddenly stops and the fat host calls for everyone’s attention, explaining that the bar is going to close soon, and they are invited to leave for the night._

_Haruka stares at the man as if he had spoken Portuguese or some other foreign language. He blinks slowly, and his mind adjusts itself after a few minutes, the realization kicking in. His hands and legs tremble a little while he rises to his feet._

_This is it. The last chance of meeting Makoto again is gone. When morning comes, Haruka will be moving to a different city, starting a new, fresh life._

_The raven-haired man isn’t sure how he feels about it, or what to do about the tears that threaten to leave his eyes. Feeling like his body is made by a thick, heavy metal, Haruka gathers the pieces of his wrecked heart from the floor and storms away from the place, without casting the bar a second glance._

 

 

It is with bright blue eyes that Haruka stares down at the brunet again. 

_No, Makoto, this isn’t about sex. Not anymore. How can you not see that?_

His hands brush through chocolate-colored hair, fingers grabbing the messy locks and playing with them for a bit. The silky strands are soft under his touch, and he can see a little of the tension ease out through the other’s gaze. Now that his eyes have adjusted to the darkness, Haruka can see it quite clearly. There are so many shades of green in Makoto’s eyes that Haruka is sure he will never get tired of looking at them.

It feels different having Makoto here, to be able to touch him, almost as if he had been living in a black and white movie from the 50’s, and now everything is suddenly back to color.

The silly thought brings a barely there smile to his lips, but Makoto notices it, anyway. Haruka knows this by the way his head tilts a little to the side, his lips also part a little.

The boy waits for his answer with upturned eyebrows and trembling shoulders, and the sight goes straight to Haruka’s dick. The raven-haired man shouldn’t get excited by this look of fear in Makoto’s face but, well, he can’t help it. The boy is just too adorable.

Now that he thought about… he is still so hard that it hurts.

So he bites his lips, ignoring the painful arousal, and shakes his head, hoping that Makoto will read in his eyes everything that he is feeling, hoping that he will understand that Haruka wants him, wants him so much, not just for tonight.

And Haruka smiles fully now when he sees the realization dawn on Makoto’s face, the way his expression brightens and suddenly everything is so full of life, his chest tightens and his throat goes dry. Suddenly, everything is so full of Makoto, and he is all he sees, all he can think about.

Then, something sly crosses the brunet’s eyes, and Haruka’s breathing hitches. That is a sight he’s never seen before.

With a strange confidence, Makoto brings his face closer to Haruka’s cock and kisses the skin of his hips.

“Too bad… because I really want to do it.”

This is too much for Haruka to take, and his focus finally snaps. Without thinking, he gasps loudly and thrusts his hips forward, cock brushing Makoto’s cheeks.

The light chuckle that reaches his ears is enough for him to know that Makoto is okay. They are okay. He was forgiven. For now.

“Calm down, will you?” Makoto laughs some more, and then looks up at Haruka with a teasing expression on his charming face. “This is the first time I am doing something like this, so… I need you to be gentle, okay?”

Haruka thinks his head will fall off from the force in which he nods at Makoto. Part of him had hoped that was the case, that Makoto hadn’t found someone better, that he still stood a chance.

He can be gentle. He can do that much, right?

Fuck, he is in so deep he will be anything Makoto asks him to be.

As if sensing how serious Haruka’s answer is, Makoto gives him a kind, sweet smile, that doesn’t fit the situation, at all. He pushes the jeans and underwear down Haruka’s thighs, exposing the pale skin bit by bit.

Makoto leans in and Haruka pulls him by the hair so that he is closer to his dick at the same time, until he feels the feverish warmth overtake the head of his shaft.

Not wanting to push Makoto too much, he bites his lips and lets the brunet work at his own pace, just the gentle pull of his fingers guiding him in and out.

Makoto takes half of it into his delicious mouth, and with his tongue, he explores the length thoroughly, taking his time licking from the base to the head, making Haruka shiver a little.

Actually, a little is an understatement. It’s just that the raven-haired man is used to hiding his true feelings under heavy locks of metal, so for him to ‘shiver’, it means the feeling is _so damn good_ he can’t hide it anymore.

Then Makoto takes his lips off of his length and comes back, mouthing more than before this time, and Haruka emits a low groan, closing his eyes. The problem is that he wants more. More of that warmth, wetness, more of Makoto’s mouth and tongue on him.

He looks down at the brunet through blue slits and pulls the silk locks of hair in his fingers until Makoto stops his movements and glances up at him.

 _Shit_. It takes Haruka everything not to come right there, with Makoto’s mouth wrapped around him and the tears trickling out of the corners of those huge, emerald eyes.

With a restrained voice, he surrenders to his dark desires. “Stay still, Makoto.”

Like always, it takes less than a second for his partner to understand his intentions, and Haruka is surprised when Makoto complies without asking anything further, just the right rays of light in his eyes saying _go ahead_.

_Go ahead, Haruka. Do whatever you want with me._

So Haruka gives in. He grabs the strands of chocolate hair more roughly in his hands and slowly pushes his hips in Makoto’s direction.

Thankfully, the barista has a large, wonderful mouth that takes most of Haruka’s cock, and it feels so amazing that Haruka moans loudly now.

His body arcs in a beautiful way when he slowly pushes deep in and out of Makoto’s mouth, feeling lightheaded as he hears the wet noises of the lips sucking his length. Makoto’s hands have long left the wall, and now they hold onto Haruka’s thighs, the nails digging hard into the flesh of his ass.

Once he reaches the back of Makoto’s throat, the brunet’s chokes, and the gasping reverberates all over Haruka’s cock. _Be gentle_. He withdraws and checks on Makoto, lets him breathe.

 _Can I go on?_ He slides a finger against Makoto’s cheeks.

 _Yeah, go ahead._ The brunet wipes the tears away from his eyes.

“Mm… Ah…” Haruka can’t help but cry out loud, quietness be damned, and he keeps up his pace, part of his brain warning him to be careful not to hurt Makoto. When he senses the arousal building in the pit of his stomach, his upper body leans towards his partner, and he rests his arms and forehead on the other man, embracing him.

“Mako…to… Makoto,” he murmurs into the other’s ear, over and over again, as he fucks his mouth and his mind reels, thinking of nothing but loads and loads of pleasure.

So hot, so good, so deliciously dazzling in the tight seal of Makoto’s flushed lips.

Just one last push and then he is coming, shallowly panting and scratching his nails on the brunet’s shoulders in his shock. Greedily, Makoto swallows everything, sucking him dry, gulping while the salty fluid goes down his throat.

Lazy, blue eyes flicker open a moment later, and Haruka brushes the sweaty bangs away from Makoto’s forehead with tenderness. “It was good,” he assures the boy with a tiny smile gracing his features. He looks younger like this, with soft, blue eyes and a satisfied expression.

The brunet takes his mouth off of Haruka’s cock with a lewd sound and wipes the come off of his chin with the back of his hand, cheeks bright red and lips swollen. It is only now that Haruka realizes Makoto had been stroking himself, but the boy hasn’t come yet.

“Move further back,” he commands, still breathless.

Makoto complies, sitting on the floor and moving far from the door until Haruka has space to kneel between the other’s legs.

After pushing his pants aside, Haruka slowly covers Makoto with his body and looks down at him. The brunet is still fully clothed. Haruka is having none of that because he wants to see that gorgeous body one more time. With deliberate movements, he takes off his stripped shirt. Then, he reaches out for Makoto’s dark cardigan, and pulls it off without trouble, leaving just the sleeveless shirt on.

Their eyes meet, and a pool of emotions dance through the shades of blue. Everything about Makoto is so much better than before, his taste, his voice, the way his hair sticks out in so many directions…the gentleness in his gaze.

Instead of his lips, nipples, or neck, Haruka goes for the other’s ears, since he has long learned that it is his weak spot. First he licks the cute earlobes, mouths at the boy’s silver jewelry. With his tongue, he feels there are two earrings now, one bigger than the other, but both with a rounded shape. More than liking, Haruka gets aroused again just by teasing the accessory.

And so does Makoto. He brings a hand to cup Haruka’s neck, panting heavily as he rests on his elbows and his quivering legs brush against Haruka’s.

The raven-haired man keeps sucking at the skin behind the brunet’s ears, and with a free hand he supports himself, as the other grabs Makoto’s length. The cock is painfully hard and throbbing as his fingers stroke up and down, in a fast pace.

“Ah… Haru… Ahhh… Haru… ka…” the brunet whispers without really thinking about it. It’s just his way to tell Haruka that, even if his mind is escaping to obliviousness, a small part of it is still there, with him, telling him to _keep going._

But Haruka is greedy. His body lusts for more, always more, from Makoto. It is never enough.

He moves, taking Makoto’s shirt off and plants kisses over his shoulders and collarbone while his other hand frees the brunet from his sexy pants. After making sure he can see every inch of skin on Makoto’s body, Haruka licks his fingers to make the experience less painful for the boy, one hand continuing its work on his length, the other caressing his balls, and going further, and further, until it reaches his opening.

Makoto gasps audibly once he feels Haruka’s fingers, but he doesn’t flinch or stop the raven-haired boy, he just holds him with more strength than before, throwing his head back onto the floor once the first finger pushes inside.

With a frown and a pounding heart, Haruka looks up at Makoto’s closed eyelids. “It’s tight.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, hungry eyes flicker open at him, a smile appearing in the corner of Makoto’s lips. “…what did you expect?”

Haruka understands, right there, that he hasn’t been the only one pining for someone outside his reach. With a lightness in his heart, he kisses Makoto senseless while stroking and fingering him. The salty taste of his cum still lingers on Makoto’s tongue.

Indeed, it is really tight down there… but Haruka doesn’t mind, his selfish nature becomes unusually patient when it comes to the brunet. So he pushes his finger inside and explores the flesh until he feels the inner walls accepting the foreign object.

When he senses that Makoto is ready, he pushes another finger in, then another one, down to his knuckles. This time, it doesn’t take so long for Makoto to become a panting mess underneath him, losing his composure as Haruka fucks him with his fingers, hot, hard and fast.

All the while their lips remain near to each other, sometimes kissing, sometimes just breathing the other’s air. Every time Haruka feels like Makoto is close to coming, he slows his pace on purpose. It’s not a nice thing to do, he knows it, but he feels the strange urge to see how far Makoto will go without begging for it.

After the third time, it seems like Makoto can’t stand it anymore. _He has no perseverance_ , Haruka thinks.

“Haru… ka… please…” the brunet sobs, arms covering his teary eyes.

“What do you want me to do?” Haruka replies, burning the other’s face with his cold stare.

“Wha… ah… what?” is the confused response, since Makoto’s mind is long lost in the whirlpool of pain and pleasure.

The raven-haired man asks again, biting down on the pink nipples in earnest, gaining a loud cry from the brunet. “What do you want me to do, Makoto?” he commands the other to answer.

“Haruka…” he waits for his partner to face him again. When the green eyes flash up to him, Haruka senses an odd feeling of relief, “… I want to come…”

Makoto rests his forehead on top of Haruka’s and lowers his voice to a whisper as if he were telling a secret. “But…. I want you… mn…to… ah… fuck me… too.”

The straightforward reply brings another smile to Haruka’s face, along with a sudden heat that slides all the way down to his cock. Carefully, he takes his fingers out of Makoto’s ass, and brings it to the man’s shoulders, scratching it lightly, and holding him close for a bit. It feels like heaven to have the brunet in his arms again.

Even with all the sweat, the brunet still smells faintly like chocolate and milk. The scent fills Haruka’s nostrils as he lingers on top of the other boy.

At that point, he feels Makoto’s shoulders tense slightly. “Haruka, I am sorry…” he says.

The blue-eyed man furrows his brows, heart hammering loudly in his chest as he waits for the boy to continue.

“I don’t have any lube…” Makoto’s voice is nothing but a sad, sad murmur.

Haruka almost laughs at this. Makoto is just so silly sometimes. “It’s okay, I brought some.”

Immediately, the brunet feels a ton lighter in his embrace. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Haruka reaches out for his pants and takes a small bottle of lube and a condom from his pockets, opening and covering himself with the liquid with smooth movements. Then his eyes flicker up to Makoto. “I am going to put it in now.” He needs to make sure.

Makoto nods, his eyes begging while he glances up from under his eyelashes. He moves to turn around, but Haruka grabs his arms and stops him. “No.”

The blown-wide eyes are all the reaction he gets, the obvious question written all over Makoto’s face. The blue-eyed man kisses him softly to reassure the boy. “Let me look at you… tonight.”

At this, Makoto blushes dark red but rests on his back one more time, looking up expectantly at Haruka. _He is so beautiful_ , the raven-haired man thinks.

Suddenly, when Haruka positions himself at Makoto’s entrance, he remembers their first time, and how hurt the brunet had been. _Be gentle._ He’d never cared so much for a partner before, butMakoto’s words swing deep in his head. So he pushes the slick head forward, slowly, without stopping, but not being forceful either.

Immediately, Makoto’s hands come to rest on his back, nails digging into his flesh, face flushed and eyes squeezed shut from the pain. At seeing him in this state, Haruka trembles a little and it takes all of his willpower not to move right away. He can’t hurt this person. “Breathe, Makoto.”

His partner obeys, chest going up and down with each inhale and exhale, his body shaking all over. Haruka leans in and presses feather-light kisses to the juncture of Makoto’s neck and shoulder, trailing his tongue along the sweet skin. Makoto’s flavor is just so good, no wonder he got so worked up about him for months. Then he kisses the skin a little harder, sucking on it, leaving dark bruises in his path.

After several minutes, the hands on his back gradually release their strong hold and begin gliding down from his shoulders to his hips, causing goosebumps to appear on the bare skin. It is all Haruka can take before his resolve snaps and he thrusts his hips.

“Ah!” Makoto gasps.

“Sorry.” Haruka means it. “I can’t wait anymore.” It’s the truth, his body is shivering and his desire is rising and about to spark like a shooting star.

When Makoto rocks his hips instead of answering with words, it makes Haruka sink further as a result, the raven-haired man feels a thrill run down his spine and his control explodes, responding with a powerful thrust of his own.

“Ahhh… shit!” Makoto cries out loud, barely able to breathe as Haruka fucks him in earnest, reaching deeper and deeper with each movement of his hips. It’s so hot when their chests touch and their lips meet and their legs entwine like this. Every bit of Haruka’s body covers Makoto’s, and his cock is trapped between their chests, the sweet friction sending Makoto’s consciousness to another galaxy.

Unconsciously, Makoto moves his lower body at the same time as Haruka’s, the collision making them both moan and clash in a delicious kind of way. The brunet wouldn’t mind losing himself to dust if it’s like this, with Haruka, trapped in his arms.

Haruka’s thrusts are so violent and fast-paced that Makoto’s head hits the floor every single time, so he moves his arms to protect his head from being hurt. With strong fingers, the blue-eyed boy grabs Makoto’s waist and brings him up, off the floor, arching the brunet’s back in two. He holds him so forcefully that the skin starts turning purple at the edges.

With the new position, Haruka can reach Makoto’s sweet spot dead on, each time. Green eyes flicker open, but he can’t see anything, can’t think, he can only sob and try not to get swept away, tears falling down his cheeks and blurring his vision.

“Let go… Makoto…”  Haruka’s voice is thick when he entwines his fingers with Makoto’s, joined hands resting on the floor by the brunet’s head. As the words flow over him, Makoto focuses once again on his partner’s eyes, before finally, _finally_ , letting his mind marvel at the overwhelming sensation of Haruka riding him. It is okay for him to let go, as long as Haruka is there to keep him safe, grounded until he comes back to his senses.

Panting, Haruka watches as Makoto’s eyes cloud with passion, desire and lust, a toxic, addicting combination. He keeps his pace up as his partner gasps and moans and responds to his steady movements with his own spasms, both dragging out the finale of their dance.

But Haruka can’t seem to focus very well either, his body claiming as much of the brunet as he physically can while Makoto’s insides contract and stretch around his cock. It’s not enough, it’s never enough, he thinks, as his arousal grows to a higher state and his rhythm starts to become irregular.

He hides his face in the crease of Makoto’s neck, breathing in the other’s wonderful scent, and closes his eyes. “Makoto...”

“Haru… I can’t… I am…”

The voice is filled with so much need and urgency that Haruka loses control again, burying his cock deep inside Makoto as he murmurs against the other’s glowing skin, “It’s okay, Makoto.”

Just like that, Makoto comes, squeezing Haruka’s hand to a painful extent as his mind explodes like fireworks, drifting far, far away from the small apartment, from Tokyo, from Earth. Just Haruka’s hands working as his anchor.

The shuddering in Makoto’s body is so strong that it reverberates through to Haruka’s cock, and then he is coming too, mind dizzy and full of Makoto, Makoto’s voice, scent, taste, and skin. Haruka sucks at his neck, enjoying every bit of the weightless sensation that flows over him.

As he comes down from his high, he sinks into Makoto’s damp chest, listening to his frantic heartbeat. He waits until the beat becomes steady and the breaths turn from ragged to regular, normal ones. Resting on the muscular torso, Haruka discovers he loves normal, especially when Makoto’s free hand begins to play with his hair. The blue-eyed man doesn’t remember the last time someone was this tender with him after sex… or ever.

Rubbing his face against Makoto’s warmth, he smiles.

 

 

There. They did it again. And this time sex was… different. Makoto can’t fathom where the difference lies, but it’s there nonetheless.

As Haruka rests above him, Makoto discovers a few things about the boy. The first is that he is heavier than he looks. Second, the texture of his hair is kind of fluffy after getting all sweaty. Third, despite his cold profile, Haruka does sweet things, like drawing patterns on Makoto’s hairless chest. They stay like that, just being comforted by the other’s warmth for a while. That is until Makoto’s laugh disturbs their peace.

“What is it?” Haruka frowns at him.

“I am sorry, Haru. Can I call you Haru?” Makoto takes Haruka’s silence as a confirmation and keeps going. “I was just thinking that we didn’t even leave the entryway.”

Haruka gets off him and lies by his side on the floor, facing him.

“Priorities, Makoto.”

The brunet turns towards Haruka, still chuckling lightly, surprised for catching the hint of a joke in the man’s voice. Even in the dark, Haruka’s eyes have the most beautiful shade of blue, and now they are so relaxed, so full of sincerity that Makoto’s breathing gets a little stuck on the way out. He brings a hand to caress his partner’s cream-like skin, fingers brushing over the shoulders and collarbones.

“You didn’t pass out this time,” the voice sneaks under Haruka’s breathing.

Slightly wide-eyed, Makoto glances up at the boy. “Did you want me too?”

As Haruka remains quietly staring at him, Makoto drops his hand and leans on his elbows. “So you wanted it… but why, Haru?”

Frowning a little because of the sudden nickname, Haruka glares at Makoto’s fingers to hide his blush and speaks so low Makoto has a difficult time listening to it. “Because it means you liked it.”

The words reach his ears though, and all traces of laughter fade away.

_Where in the world does passing out mean having pleasure? Maybe if…_

He stares at the boy beside him for a moment or two, before dropping onto the floor again, closer to the man, and starts nuzzling his neck. “I loved it. The reason why I didn’t black out this time is because you were gentler, just like I asked you to be. Remember?”

Thankfully, the simple words are enough for Haruka’s shoulders to relax again, and the boy puts his arms under Makoto’s head, embracing him, which is an invitation, really, for the brunet to rests his arms around his middle and entangle their legs together.

“Did you know you smell amazing?” Makoto says while placing kisses on Haruka’s warm skin, and the man just hums in approval. “Yeah, like the beach on a summer night… only better.”

Haruka brings his hands to Makoto’s shoulders, outlining the edges of his muscles, keeping the boy close, as he starts to feel breathless. “Makoto...”

Climbing over Haruka’s silhouette, the brunet brings their lips together in a loving, tender kiss that stops too soon in Haruka’s opinion, and Makoto begins mouthing at the silky jaw so Haruka won’t have time to complain. “I thought…” he starts but leaves the phrase unfinished.

“What?” there is need and expectation in the single word Haruka pronounces, and that alone makes Makoto glance up at him again, surprised. He bites his lips to gather the courage to speak his mind.

“I thought I only liked your kisses because they were rough… but it’s not that at all.” He kisses the lips softly one more time. “I cherish your kisses because they are yours… or something along those lines. That is what I thought.” Makoto laughs to cover up his embarrassment.

Bellow him, Haruka’s eyes shine with such intensity that it feels like everything else is a mere accessory, fading into the background of Makoto’s mind. Oddly enough, the brunet doesn’t need Haruka to speak to understand him because he can see the happiness overflowing from the wide eyes. On the cold floor, their foreheads touch and arms reach out to hug. “I am happy for finding you too,” Makoto says, bumping noses with him.

A moment later, Makoto’s stomach starts aching. Forget about romance, it’s been hours since he had something to eat, after all.

“Are you hungry, Haru?” he asks.

“Why are you calling me Haru?”

“Well, before, it seemed that you disliked when I called your full name. Am I wrong?”

Haruka turns his face to the side and frowns, a sign Makoto reads as _you are right, but I am not going to vocalize it_.

“So… are you hungry, Haruka?” He purposefully drags the last syllable of the name to tease the man. Oh, and it’s so easy to tease him.

The expression of annoyance on Haruka’s face is so blatant Makoto can’t help but laugh out loud, falling by the boy’s side again. “Ha, I am sorry, Haru.” He wipes the tears from the corners of his eyes, breathless. “But, really, let’s find something to eat, I am starving.”

“We need to clean first.” Haruka sits and stares at his chest, still covered in cum.

“Oh…right, I forgot about that. Priorities…huh?”

As he tries to stand up, dizziness overflows his senses and he drops back down onto the floor. Only now the pain starts to make itself known in the lower area of his body.

_I guess Haruka wasn’t that gentle, right?_

“Are you okay?” Haruka leans over him, worry splattered across his face.

“Yeah.” He smiles softly at his partner. “Can you help me stand up, please?”

Haruka helps him get to his feet, and with some effort they put on their underwear. Makoto’s lazy side would like to stay in the same place, but after eating they can rest on the bed, which is a thousand times more comfortable than the cold floor.

Fingers switch the lights on and the whole apartment comes into view.

Makoto lives in a small place, similar to a studio, where there is only a spacy living room, bathroom, and kitchen. Thankfully, the place comes with a tiny balcony. It’s not much, but Makoto is more than satisfied. Then, the chocolate-haired man slowly heads to the bathroom and throws his dirty clothes at the laundry basket.

“Do you want to take a shower?” he yells at Haruka. Once he gets no answer, he pops his head out of the door to search for his lover.

Haruka is standing in the same place Makoto left him, but the tensed expression in the usually blank face alarms Makoto, who returns to his side. “What is it?” he asks.

The raven-haired man remains still as a rock and Makoto follows his line of vision. He doesn’t understand what the man is so concerned about. He turns around and eyes the double bed, the small table with his laptop, the couch, the TV, and video games… everything is clean, and so Makoto doesn’t comprehend… _Ah_.

On the far wall, next to the television, there are lots of cardboard boxes with different sizes, the kind people use for moving out; Makoto side-glances at Haruka, who glares at the boxes with fire in his eyes.

“Haru…” Makoto starts, not really sure about what to say.

“When are you leaving?” Haruka asks evenly. Makoto, however, hears the daggers in his voice and flinches.

“What are you –” the brunet is so confused.

“When are you moving out?” Haruka cuts him off, accusation staining his tone of voice, and murderous blue eyes turn to glare at him, the only thing betraying the cold profile.

_Where are you going, Makoto?_

Part of Makoto’s mind considers that Haruka is kind of crazy for barging into his life from out of nowhere and shouting at him like this. The other part, well, thinks nothing, really. He is just too stunned to think clearly.

_What is Haruka so mad about?_

He goes straight to his bed, sinking into it with a thumping sound, and stares up at the ceiling with clouded eyes.

Why is Haruka so concerned about it?

Does he want to stay with Makoto this time?

Is he going to stay until morning?

Then, a different question appears in his mind.

_How would I feel if our roles were reversed?_

“Makoto” Haruka begs, and the brunet looks back at him, seeing the edges of fear in his eyes.

Makoto doesn’t like it one bit. Haruka should never feel insecure, it doesn’t matter the reason. Not after he has seen those same eyes relaxed and sparkling with joy just minutes ago. Thinking that it is better to clear things once and for all, Makoto exhales loudly and smiles.

“I am not going anywhere, Haru. I just moved in.” Struggling, he sits on the bed and stares at the many boxes covering such a big part of his apartment, pushing his bangs out of his forehead. “I graduated and couldn’t live at the dorms anymore. Since I have been working full-time now, I didn’t have the time to properly settle all of my things...”

Makoto doesn’t have the chance to finish his thoughts because Haruka is suddenly all over him, kissing him hard and falling with him onto the bed. The man devours his lips, tongue and takes a strong hold of his fluffy hair, pulling at it to a painful extent. The brunet loses himself in the wonderful taste of Haruka’s mouth until there is nothing more than _Haruka, Haruka, Haruka_ spiraling in his thoughts.

“Good,” the man murmurs against his lips and gets off the bed in a smooth movement, taking the time to stare down at Makoto in a possessive way. 

_Don’t play tricks like that again._

At the sight of those glorious eyes, the brunet shivers all the way to his toes.

“Let’s shower,” Haruka orders, grabbing Makoto’s hands and leading him towards the bathroom, glancing over his shoulders once to make sure Makoto is following him without any trouble. With the dull feeling that Haruka might be a handful, Makoto walks behind him with a huge smile gracing his lips.

 

 

A couple of hours later (the amount of time it took to convince Haruka to leave the bathtub), the wonderful smell of pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon spread through the whole apartment, gaining sighs from the hungry brunet.

Makoto observes Haruka's cooking skills with an amazed expression, leaning against the kitchen's island. They had put some clothes on, the raven boy borrowing a blue shirt and shorts from the taller man, as Makoto wears old sweatpants and a gray t-shirt.

“Haru, this looks so good” he complements, wide emerald eyes flashing from the pan to the man by his side.

“It’s nothing. Anyone can cook this much,” Haruka answers, too focused on not burning the dough to notice the way Makoto leans on his shoulders.

“I couldn’t make breakfast even if I tried my best, Haru.” Makoto looks down at his hands, flexing his fingers, and a gloomy shadow crosses over the soft green in his eyes.

Glancing down briefly at the boy, Haruka turns the pancake over in the pan. _What is he thinking?_ “You would be able to cook if you practiced. I work as a chef, so I am used to it. We only serve fish, but it’s almost the same principles.” He shrugs.

At hearing the words, Makoto’s whole face brightens in a second. “Wow, you are amazing, Haru! Does this mean I’ll eat food made by a real chef? Thank you for making these, by the way, I was craving pancakes…”

His smile is so blinding that Haruka has a hard time keeping his face straight, as his heart begins to pound madly in his chest. The greasy food sure is worth Makoto’s thrilled face. Why Makoto cares so much for such a simple thing remains a mystery to him. In Haruka’s opinion, his skills are really nothing to be this proud of.

So why do his cheeks turn red and a smile threatens to crack through his poker face?

Unable to use words, he reaches out his free hand to play with chocolate hair instead, entwining a silky lock between his long fingers. After a moment, he decides to say something that has been on his mind for a while.

“Your hair is shorter.”

Makoto is seriously taken aback for a second before surrendering to the laugh that escapes his lips. It is so genuinely happy that even the corner of Haruka’s mouth turns slightly upwards.

Makoto looks down at his hands again, but this time his expression is relaxed and sweet. “Actually, it was not supposed to be cut like this. My friend Nagisa, the one who works at the hair salon, said it was time to change and decided to cut it shorter than I expected! I was so shocked.” He chuckles again and shakes his head, closing his eyes.

With his fingers still on the sand hair, Haruka scratches the nape of his neck. “I like it this way”.

Green meets blue and time stops moving. They stand there, Makoto’s tender smile reflecting back in Haruka’s eyes, as the other boy leans into his touch.

Then the smell of something burning jolts them out of their dreamy state, and they both startle and smile even more. Makoto takes the plates out of the cardboard box on the floor and sets them onto the kitchen counter so Haruka can put the food on their plates.

In the end, they end up sitting side by side, enjoying the meal, radio turned on. The full moon stands proudly in the sky, all yellow shades and soft edges, and as the rays of moonlight grace their moment, a comfortable and enjoyable silence falls upon them.

It’s needless to say that Haruka’s food tastes heavenly

Against all odds, after they are both satisfied, Haruka doesn’t go home. It’s not even 10 pm, but the issue remains unspoken. The raven just leans on Makoto’s balcony as he waits for the boy to finish the dishes (since Haruka cooked, Makoto decided to clean), the soft music playing in the background and the colorful city lights illuminating his figure.

It has been ages since Haruka had last felt the urge to dance, it being more like a dead habit than a loving pleasure these days. But as an upbeat song begins, his hips start moving on their own accord, and before he realizes, his body is pushing and pulling on the railing at the beat of the music.

Haruka shivers when he feels Makoto’s frame behind him, holding him close and kissing at the base of his neck, and it’s only when Makoto moves with his body that he notices what he has been doing. _He had been dancing._

So he turns around and places his arms on wide shoulders, a silent plea in his eyes. Makoto lets out a shaky breath. “I am not very good at this,” he starts.

“It’s okay.” Haruka means it. For him, it’s enough to just guide their hips through the rhythm of the music, slowly spiraling around the balcony. It’s more than he had over the past months.

“What song is this?” he asks, hiding his face in Makoto’s neck and drowning in his perfect scent.

The brunet rests his head on the top of the raven’s head, hands landing on Haruka’s waist leisurely. “I think it’s Silver and Gold, by Noah and The Whale. Do you like it, Haru?”

Haruka doesn’t answer right away, listening to the lyrics instead. He breathes, sharing the intimate moment with Makoto. In a city as large as Tokyo, it shouldn’t feel like they are alone in their own little world, but it does. He had thought he would never see his clumsy brunet again, and yet here he is, in his muscular arms, sharing his passion with him in every possible way.

His body, his food, and his dance- everything feels good because Makoto is here.

As the song dies, Haruka steps up onto the tip of his toes and kisses Makoto, trying to convey his feelings through his parted lips.

“Can we go to bed?” Makoto murmurs against his lips when they part, voice especially kind.

The chef doesn’t have to think much about his answer. “Yeah…”

 

 

The night routine flows easily between them, and moments later they are resting comfortably under the soft blankets. Makoto turns to reach for the lamp on his bedside table and switches it off.

In the sudden darkness, Makoto collects all of his courage and speaks his mind out loud. Since his face is hidden from Haruka, it’s easier for him to reveal his insecurities like this.

“Haru… will you still be here when I wake up?”

It’s irrational and childish, but he needs to make sure. His voice is nothing but a barely-there whisper, and he regrets the moment the syllables leave his lips.

The noise of his pounding heart hurts his ears badly.

Makoto doesn’t know what to expect, but Haruka’s simple answer hurts him all the same.

“No.”

The blankness in Haruka’s voice turns Makoto’s skin into ice, and his muscles grow tense under the weight of his uneasiness and anxiety. Suddenly, an edgy feeling creeps into the marrow of Makoto’s bones because he could never recover from Haruka’s absence a second time.

That the man came back into his life was an impossible strike of luck.

That the man was willing to share a bed with him again felt like a meteor shower in Makoto’s rainy sky.

That the man would disappear in the morning left Makoto’s mind frozen dead for a second.

As if sensing the other’s reaction to his answer, long fingers slide tenderly from Makoto’s shoulders to his hips, and athletic arms hug him from behind, holding him in a tight embrace. Quite comfortable, and yet Makoto remains impassive.

It’s only when he feels Haruka’s warm forehead touching his skin, and a soft kiss being placed between his shoulder blades, that his soul begins to calm down, little by little.

“I will be in your bathtub,” the raven-haired man murmurs, the cool voice finally easing all of the pain and the worry. Makoto should have seen that coming, really.

“But you may join me if you want to,” the voice continues, using a teasing tone this time.

Haruka supports himself on his elbows and closes his mouth over Makoto’s earring, licking the skin behind the silver jewelry like a cat and gaining a small moan from his partner as a reward.

Glitters of joy illuminate Makoto’s face, and he turns to see Haruka’s expression. The depths of his passion, longing, and something else Makoto isn’t sure about- swimming in the sapphire color, leave him lightheaded. His immediate reaction is to take hold of the edges of Haruka’s shirt.

“…okay,” he breathes.

In the midst of hammering hearts and shaken minds, Haruka eagerly claims the huge smile that graces Makoto’s face. He also kisses away the soft chuckles that escape the boy’s mouth, enjoying the taste of sunlight on his lips and tongue.

The brunet’s skin is warm under the cotton shirt, and Haruka decides that his favorite thing in the world is when those emerald eyes are like this, wide, watery, and solely focused on him. Haruka understands Makoto’s fears and he also understands that the hurt caused isn’t going to go away that easily, but no matter how troublesome, he’ll make sure to reassure the boy, every single day, about his feelings.

After a whole year of hunger and madness, the desire they both feel hasn’t changed in the least. Considering the strength of their bond and accepting his fate, Haruka recalls the lyrics of the song, while his hands slide through chocolate hair and his slim legs entwine with Makoto’s thicker ones over the disheveled sheets. It seems that ‘sleeping’ isn’t coming anytime soon.

 

So just show a little faith in me, I’m standing right in front of you.

And show a little faith in me, over the passing of time.

 

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh this is the end :'( The truth is that I got quite fond of this story, and it's sad to let it go. But, at the same time, I am so happy that it's over because I worked so hard in this, I am dead tired now haha
> 
> I might write more about this universe later, like about their relationship, or about Kisumi and Gou, or how Haru got his dog... but this is for the future haha now I will go to sleep and then write So Much for a Crush, because yeah :)
> 
> Thank you for everyone who followed this fic, to all the internet friends I made, this has been an incredible experience and I couldn't be happier xD EggDropSoup, thank you for being my beta <3
> 
> If you want to RP or talk about yaoi or anything, really, you can find me at herewegohappiness.tumblr.com :) 
> 
> Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> This has been such a long ride. I've been playing with this idea for a few months, but I wrote it many times before the plot and Makoto's POV finally felt 'natural'. Because of that, even though I am nervous, I decided to post it already since I am exhausted and can't see it clearly anymore haha  
> Also, I explored different sides of the characters. For example, Makoto is far more innocent and timid and Haruka is more selfish and passionate than in So Much for a Crush.  
> I would love if you guys could tell me what you thought of it, where I did right, or wrong. I am working on the final part of this fanfic, so I could really use some advice xD Anyway, I hope you like it :) Until next time!


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